Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I'm yours!)
by Vanessa Crispin
Summary: An energetic delivery girl crashes her bike into a moody stranger on a hot summer day - the rest, as they say, is history.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note : Wah, I'm tired of all these depressing OC characters with drug issues and dark backgrounds. Let's put on a broadway tune and see what happens._

* * *

"SCOUT!" my boss roared through the warehouse. I quickly ran up to him, giving him a quick military salute.

"Yes sir?" I asked, eagerly awaiting his instructions.

"I have a huge and very urgent delivery for apple that needs to be done before lunch, and none of these other shit-for-brains can reach midtown in the 10 minute time it SHOULD take to get there." he said, while glowering at my co-workers, who were all pretty much wiped out from the heatwave that was currently upon us.

I smiled cockily, even though I was sweating buckets.

"10 minutes? I'll get it there in 5." I say, rubbing my hands together with delight. My boss smiles at me fondly, and dare I say a bit proud.

"That's why you're my favorite, small fry."

I quickly loaded the heavy delivery box onto the back of my bicycle and headed off like a bolt of lightening down the road from the warehouse in the east village.

Hello, my name is Sarah King and I live in new york city. People at work call me Scout and I am the greatest delivery girl on wheels since, well, ever really. Speaking of which, why aren't there any female version of the flash? Or are there? Have I missed something in the 45 minute window I last checked ?

Am I going to hit that truck up ahead because I've been too busy thinking about this? Well, not today!

I quickly swerve out of the way, neatly avoiding a spectacular collision. Despite the heavy traffic, I've never experienced a problem getting anywhere on my bike. I've been biking around this town since I could crawl, and I am very familiar with the shortcuts and whatnot. I am a speedster of renowned reputation!

Some people think I'm too positive though. And some people think I'm on powerful drugs to always be so happy, but I'm really not- I swear! The only drugs I permit myself are coffee with triple shots of espresso and the occational ibuprofen when I have a headache. My mom works with homeopathic "medicine" and so I was always told to be careful of what I put in my body. I can see her now, berating me for using deodorant when I should just go outside and rub some basil leaves and olive oil in my armpits.

Yeah, sometimes her advice aren't that advisable.

A pedestrian stops to pick up something he dropped on the road and I cannot stop the bike – so I do the only thing I know how to do in this situation. I make a leap right over him, landing with a huge thud back on the road. Still paddling people, still going. I look back quickly and see an old man shaking his fist at me, a can of peas in his hand.

"Watch where you're going psycho!" he yells.

"Sorry Mr. Peas! " I yell back, hoping he can hear my heartfelt apology.

Perhaps you've noticed, but I tend to not watch where I'm going at all times. But 99.9% of the time, nothing bad happens. Well, today will make an exception to that rule.

* * *

I make my delivery on time, and my boss doesn't have to have another fit and his company doesn't have to pay extra for a late delivery. And now its time for lunch!

I make it quick and grab a slice of pizza at a nearby bistro, munching on it as I sit on a bench in Bryant park – my bike chained right next to the bench. That's another thing about bikes – they can easily be stolen. That's why I always guard my Josie like a mother with her newborn infant. Except my infant has wheels instead of legs. My short blonde hair is sticking up in all directions due to always wearing a helmet, and I'm quite happy that its not as long as it used to be. It kept whipping me in the face, hitting my eyes – bit of a bother really.

An eldery couple is sitting on the bench next to mine, also eating pizza.

"Harold, did you forget to get me a drink?" the elderly woman suddenly asks what Im assuming is her husband. He looks bewildered.

"Oh, I guess I must have." he says, staring down into the white plastic bag that bears the name of the bistro. The old woman sighs and starts getting up, her old bones making crack-crack noises, arms slightly shaking.

"Oh, I suppose I'll go up and get a glass of water from inside..."

I stop her from doing so by handing her my unopened soda, smiling politely.

"Here, you can have mine, I won't need it." I say, even though its somewhat of a lie. But elderly people and heatwaves don't generally mix without large quantities of beverages. The lady smiles, and takes the soda can from me.

¨Why thank you."

* * *

After lunch, I feel slightly dizzy. This might be because I have not had enough water or soda to drink, but I decide to ignore this for now as I head back to the warehouse. I can drink gallons of water when I get there anyway. Whoa, is that my vision going double or is the whole of new york one giant copy of itself?

Doesnt help matters that I'm heading at my usual ultra-speed down the road, flying past cars and buses and motorcycles at 90 miles per hour.

But hey, look on the bright side – its kinda cool to see the city in double – sort of like old school 3D without the glasses. This is the last thing I have time to think before my bike and me collide with something (Someone?) dressed all in black.

Everything goes black for a little while – probably not more than a couple of seconds. Its so weird, at times like these, you don't feel any pain at all at first. It's only when you say out loud "I'm fine" that you start to suspect that your brain flew out of the top of your head. Luckily, that has not happened.

* * *

When I come to, I have been propped up against the sidewalk leaning against something warm. I look down and see that my knees are kinda scraped up. It's just as hot and bustling as before though, and nothing around us has changed at all. It is then that a low, raspy voice speaks up next to me, and I almost jump at the sound of it.

"Hey, are you okay?" it asks. I turn towards the voice, and come face to face with the warm thing I'm leaning against. It's a guy, and he looks very anxious and kinda shell-shocked. He is also dressed all in black, and there is a fresh gash on his cheek, as well as some dirt from the road. I put two and two together and get 45.

"Man, your eyes are weird." Is all I can manage at this point, and the guy in question with the weird (okay beautiful) eyes blink at me, as if what i said was not expected. Then I realize what I said and frown, my head hurts.

"Ugh, sorry – I'm sorry for hitting you, and I'm sorry about what I just said. You are very aesthetically pleasing. Wearing black in the middle of june, during a heatwave. Don't worry about me, are you okay? " I ask, looking him over. He keeps staring at me with this indechiperable look on his face. Finally, he answers with a half-shrug.

"Just a few scrapes. Stay right here ok? I'm gonna get you some water – you look a little out of it."

No shit, I probably look like a dried up turnip. As he leaves I immidielty look around for my bike with the desperation of a mother-hen looking for her chicks. I find that it is right behind me, all intact, thank goodness. I reach out a scratched and raw hand, caressing its steel limbs as tears leak out of my eyes.

"My poor baby, I'm sorry for putting you through this mess. Mommy scared you good didn't she? I promise she won't let it happen again…."

"Do you normally do that?"

My hand freezes for a moment, before I give Josie a final pat and turn to face the guy. I don't know his name, I realize. He's looking down at me and the bike, and now he no longer looks as anxious and shocked. His expression has melted into something resembling apathy, and my suspictions are confirmed. All black clothes, weird modern mohawk hairstyle, dry and sarcastic voice – he must be one of those emo kids I keep hearing so much about.

"Yes, Josie needs to know that mommy screwed up and that she is sorry."

"Okay." he says in reply,sitting down next to me on the curb, handing me a full bottle of water. He might as well have handed me the holy grail.

"Oh sweet, merciful buddah!" I exclaim, before chugging almost the entire bottle. Meanwhile, the guy has barely moved, staring at my vivious chugging like he's watching a fascinating animal at a zoo. It makes me want to spit the water at him, but that would be rude so I don't.

"Thanks for that, was very much needed. Are you sure you're okay?" I ask again.

"Don't worry about it. Can you walk?"

I put this to the test, standing up on the sidewalk. My legs wobble a little at first, more out of the adrenalin rush than pain. Then I can walk fine, andI find that while my head hurts a little, I no longer see double. I smile, go over and grab the handlebars of Josie -ready to head off again.

I turn around and exclaim "TA-DAHHH!" to the emo kid with a dramatic flair to show that I am once again fine. But emo kid is gone.

Its just me, a crazy lady shouting at a pigeon who has taken his place. It looks at me, blinking, before flying off to a better destination.


	2. Chapter 2

_author's note: I usually don't do this, but for this story I'm giving my OC characters face claims or whatever the hell they're called – who would have played them in the tv series I guess._

* * *

 **Sarah King, aka "Scout" - Hayden Panettiere**

 **Her Boss – J.K Simmons**

 **Her hippie parents – Stanley Tucci and Patricia Clarkson**

 **(rest of the cast is the same as the tv show duh)**

* * *

I got back later the same day to the office, five minutes later in the afternoon than I usually do. So of course, everyone thinks that I've died and people are going CRAZY over by the betting pool.

Which is a small whiteboard in the rec room where we keep track of whoever hurts themselves on the job I think for saftey reasons, but now its just turned into a twisted thing to bet money on. And before you judge, if it hadn't been for that system, I wouldn't currently be owning a fridge, since the betting pool paid for most of it. Currently, I can hear people screaming from inside the room, wildly waving dollar bills.

Yeah, it should be clear to you by now that none of us are particulary sane. We're basically all nascar fans who can't afford fancy cars so we drive pimped up bicycles instead. And those who aren't in it for that reason are those obnoxious training junkies who drink green smoothies and bite people when they can't afford energy drinks. Anyway, back to the story!

As I come stumbling into the office, my boss runs over to me with this incredibly concerenec look on his face, but there is a five dollar bill in his hand.

"Scout! You little juggernaut, where the devil have you been?"

"I got in another accident, but it's fine – I got the order in safe and sound. " I decide not to tell him about the emo kid who ran off afterwards. Knowing my boss, who's secretly very protective, would probably have a fit if he knew that he just took off after the hit. I mean, it didn't matter to me much personally since he had said he was fine, but I certainly hadn't been! For all he knew, I could have fallen over the moment he'd left.

"Thank goodness for that. Well, are you up for another one today or do I have to send you home?"

"Pssh, are you kidding? Of course I can do another. What's it this time?"

"Well, there's this hightech computer company uptown. They ordered some computer screens and pretty fancy speakers that they need right away."

"I'm on it chief."

* * *

This time around, I'm a little bit more careful on the road. I've put bandaids on my scraped knees, and I've got two large water bottles dangling from the handlebars. The place that I'm making the delivery to is close to all the fancy designer shops in the city, on fifth avenue.

I park my bike and rest it against the trunk of a well-gardened tree by the sidewalk before I unload the heavy delivery box (which very nearly makes me stumble like a fool) and head for the adress my phone is pointing me to. When I look up at the corner of the road, I see a tall glass building with the words "Allsafe security" on a large sign at the top of the building. This is where I'm heading.

I have no trouble getting into the building, I just show the receptionist my messenger badge that hangs around my neck and she lets me head on to the elevators past the fancy lobby area. I get into one of the elevators and get off at the 22 floor which is marked "Security engineers and marketing".

But when I step out, there is no reception area to be seen. Usually in a big building as this, there is always someone in charge of every floor so that messengers like me can just drop off their orders directly. But it seems like this is not the case this time, and I must look around for a person in charge who can sign the order form in order for me to leave.

Sighing, I shift the large box around in my hands and trudge down the corridor to the left, where I can see that it opens up to a larger office space with several desks and people busy working. Hopefully someone around here can sign this thing!

Guh, it makes me mad when I have to carry around heavy stuff for longer periods of time. Where are all the willfull employees!?

"Hello? Can anyone sign off this thing?" I call out to the room in general, and few heads turn around. Most people continue to type away on their computers. Charming. After this, I decide to be a little less subtle.

Without warning, I head over to the nearest desk I spot and unceremoniously dump the box on its surface, making several objects bounce and skitter off to the floor. I grab my trusty hello kitty pen out of my pants pocket and hand it to the person I'm about to tell where to sign.

This is when I realize that the person I am pointing my hello kitty pen at is Emo kid. He's wearing earplugs and there are several complicated codes showing on his computer screen that I cannot begin to fathom what they mean or what they are for. He is now however not staring at the screen, but at me and my ridiculous cartoon pen with that familiar look of indifference in his dark eyes that I remember from earlier.

* * *

"You!" I exclaim, blinking.

Indifferent to my indignation, Emo Kid plucks the pen from my hand and signs the form on top of the box like he's done it a million times before, showing no surprise over seeing me again. When he bent his head, his black hood came off to once again reveal that short mohawk thing that was his hair. My heavy breathing is the only sound in the room, that is until I can't take this silence anymore.

"Well?! Aren't you going to say something?" I exclaim, waving my hand at him. He looks up from the form, leans back into his chair and bites his lip for a second before shrugging.

"Thanks for the fast delivery I guess." he replies in that gravelly voice, to which I can only gape at him.

"That's it?" I ask. He inspects my pink hello kitty pen instead of meeting my eyes.

"I like this pen, mind if I keep it?" he asks. The nerve! I pluck the pen from his hand and put it back in my pocket while glaring at him.

"Mr. Gordo is mine and I will cherish him forever!" I almost hiss, but Emo Kid barely registers this, as his fingers are typing something at the speed of light, his eyes fixed on glowing numbers and codes. Both of his eyes have dark circles under them, as if this is all he does everyday without a break.

"Do you name all inanimate objects Sarah, or just the ones that you claim to own?" he asks instead, a weird little laugh leaving his mouth. If I didn't know any better, I would say that he doesnt laugh much. But at the moment, I cannot find myself to care enough about that – since I have just been grieviously insulted. And how did he know my name anyway?!

Oh right, says so on my nametag. Well, well, two can play at that game! His shirt doesn't bear a nametag, but there is a small plastic sign by his desk that reveals what I need to know.

"Well I don't know _Elliot_ , since you seem to be one of those inanimate objects, its difficult to say really!" I say, dragging out his name like its the silliest name there ever was (even though it probably isn't).

Elliot looks up at the sound of me speaking his name, and this is what momentarily confuses me. Instead of looking aggravated, or insulted in any way – he looked almost, well, pleased. And surprised.

The situation was quickly leaping into the most aggravating argument I've ever had with a stranger I only just hit with my bike a few hours ago. Just who does he think he is?! Insinuating that I steal, and that I am mildly crazy all in one sentence. I cannot believe that I showed this guy any kind consideration at all.

"Hey, is everything okay over here?"

"Sure thing sir, was just dropping off an order to your co-worker here."

"But I heard shouting?"

"Ehh, must have been a rat in the wall. "

"A pretty big rat…." Elliot added, his attention once again on the computer but his mouth was tugged into a small grin as I silently wished he understood that the rat was HIM and that I was the exterminator. When the annoying employee had left, I leaned in to Elliots work booth and glared at him. His caramel eyes met mine calmly, looking almost bored by my presence. What an oaf!

"This isn't over Mr. Anderson." I whispered, and Elliot blinked.

"Did you know that your forehead is bleeding?" he asked.

I groaned, hiding my face in my hands.

"Will you point me to the nearest restroom?"


	3. Chapter 3

"I mean, can you believe that shit?" I yelled out of nowhere, slamming my empty beer glass against the table. My two co-workers Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-dee (seriously, those were their names, yeah I feel sorry for them too) looked over at me, startled. They were twins.

We were at our favorite local bar, The succulent cucumber. It was around 6 pm in the evening, and we had all just gotten off work. I was still wearing my red delivery uniform, too tired to change. It was close enough from work that you could practically go from one to the other in a matter of seconds. This was especially troublesome around the fourth of july, new years, christmas, bank holidays and birthdays.

Needless to say, our boss was constantly glaring out his window to see who was sneaking off duty to drink beer and play pool instead.

But speaking for myself, I rarely frequented bars – it was only on really shitty days that I felt the need to kick back and relax with a tall glass of imported dutch brew. And if you know me, you'd know that I rarely have shitty days.

Tweedle-Dee thumped me on the back, his bodybuilder muscles too big and pumped to be gentle, making the beer in my mouth shoot out like a geiser.

"What shit are you talking about Scout? You never complained about work before." Tweedledum said, peering down at me curiously. And he was right, I rarely had a reason to complain. But that was before I met my biggest enemy. Of. .

After I had explained the unbelievable day I had, the bodybuilder twins did not look furious, but just confused. I mean, did they not GET the part about the almost theft of my favorite pen!?

"Why are you obsessing over this?" Dum asked, and Dee immediately jumped in.

"Yeah, it's not like you're likely to run into him again."

"Unless he orders something. But that probably won't happen." Dum said thoughtfully, nodding.

I looked between the two of them, not sure if I felt comforted or even more upset.

"Yeah, probably not." I said, laughing the kind of sorry laugh a person gives when they know the world is against them.

* * *

 _Normally, I wouldn't do this._

 _I don't hack every person I ever meet. I don't need to do that. I only do it if I think I'll see them again, or if they're a threat, maybe both._

 _Sarah King. 22 years old._

 _Her facebook profile is generic, pictures of puppies with drool hanging from their mouths. Interacts alot with her co-workers, particularly prank emails to her boss. In french._

 _Why does she do this?_

 _Owns a small studio apartment in the East village. Pays the rent on the same date every month, never skipped or been late. Both parents still alive, also living in New York – same adress for 20 years._

 _The lastest text form her phone was sent twenty minutes ago. All written in caps._

 _To:Tweedle-Dee_

 _Shiit I FORHOT mY APARTMENT KEEYS SCAR BROTHER HELP MEEEEE_

 _ARE YOU THERE? PLEASE TELL ME YOU SOBER ENOUGH TO COME GET ME_

 _ITS COLD AND I NEED TO PEE_

* * *

So yeah, I'm really drunk but whatever, I don't have work tomorrow. Heh, great, I just love life.

I probably overdid it though with the shots.

But the TWINS MADE ME! They are so competitive its crazy, but then again so am I. We are really not good for each other. Our relationship needs distance, I think.

BALLS! Why are my pockets empty!? My keys are supposed to be there! But then wait….

Oh crap. They are in my other pants, back at the locker room at the office. Which is now closed. And only my boss has the keys to that place of horrors. And I really, really don't want to call him of all people right now…

...maybe I'll just sleep in this comfortable bush right here, outside my apartment block. It looks so soft and nice.

I collapse in the bushes, my limbs soft and pliable from the alcohol. Ahh, this feels goooood. A dog barks in the distance, lulling me to sleep. I close my eyes, ready to meet the sweet bliss of sleep when...

"What the fuck."

A dark, raspy male voice says out of nowhere. I open my eyes fully, but its getting hard. Im really sleepy. I look up from my comfortable throne of green leaves to come face to face with my truest enemy.

Elliot Anderson.

Despite the late hour, he doesn't look tired at all. In fact, he looks rather energized compared to when I saw him earlier. Huh, he must have had lots of espressos. He's still dressed in black hoodie and black jeans and sneakers, and I roll my eyes and head, groaning at the sight of him. I roll around in my bush, facing away from him.

"What are you doing here Elliot?" I groan. There is a slight pause before he speaks.

"I live around the corner. I saw a bundle here and thought it was a homeless person. Are you homeless?" he asks, and its difficult to tell if he's messing with me or not. I frown at him, my temper getting riled up.

"What do you care?" I ask grumpily. Elliot just shrugs.

"I don't. Goodbye." he says and walks away. Which is kinda bad, because I'm still temporarily homeless. Realizing my error, I yell out for him.

"NO! Wait!"

Elliot stops, but does not turn around. I sigh, working up to serious groveling to be done.

"Okay, I might need a little help. You see, I misplaced my keys. " I say. Elliot turns around again to face me, expression like stone. Unreadable.

"Alright. What do you want to do about it?" he asks me. I look at him for a moment in thought.

"I mean, you look like a sneaky sort of person. Could you like, break the lock with a hairpin or something?" I ask hopefully. Elliot looks at me like I've sprouted an extra head.

"You gotta be kidding." he rasps out, making me gnash my teeth.

"Well its either that, or I'll have to sleep over at your place!" I exclaim, like a very potent threat. But once again, he responds with casual indifference.

"Okay."

I blink a few times, stunned.

"Okay what?"

"Okay, you'll come sleep over at mine."

"….I can't do that." I say, looking away.

"Why not?"

"How shall I put this, I have decided just two hours ago that you are my greatest enemy." I say very seriously, perhaps a little too much but I'm drunk so there's not much I can do for my behavior. Instead of bothered however, Elliot seems very amused. He even cracks a smile and everything.

"...Is that so?" he asks, in a deep, deep voice that makes me feel sorta funny. But I'm god at pretending not to notice.

"Yep, that is so."

Elliot sighs dramatically, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it quickly, taking a deep inhale of smoke. He looks down at his cigarette thoughtfully.

"Well, there is only one thing two enemies can do together that does not necessarily have to mean a blood feud." he finally says, making me curious as to what he is talking about.

"And what is that?"

* * *

I had not anticipated it but, Elliot was a very worthy opponent in Mario Cart. We ended up playing for most of the night at his apartment, totally engrossed in the game. I sat close to the tv screen on the floor, next to a dog Elliot claimed was his, which I disputed fifteen times because the dog was way too cute. Elliot himself sat on a dark brown couch behind me, crouched up in the corner like a goblin.

"If you throw another banana peel at me, you are dead." I said at some point, my eyes glued to the screen as Flipper the dog barked at the animated cars on the screen.

"Okay, but only if I get to pick the track next time."

I hadn't really played much videogames before, but anyone born in the 90s knows of mario cart. It came as natural to me as a kid as it still does. Probably because of the racing car aspect. At 3 am though, Player 1 nodded off. I looked behind me to see Elliots head slumped back on the headrest, his hands still clutching the controller, his eyes closed.

It was only when he had fallen asleep that I noticed the apartment itself. It was very bare, void of personal objects. The dog and his little dog-bed was the only personal items I could see in the entire place. I sat down my own controller and turned the tv and the videogame off. I walked over to the couch and looked on as Elliot slept.

My god, he was a strange looking fellow. And he was pretty strange on the inside too. How many people invite their enemies to play videogames with them?

But then again, I had accepted, so I must be pretty strange too. He sighed softly in his sleep, and my wandering mind focused again. Deciding that it was time to go to bed for me as well, I went into the bathroom and borrowed his toothbrush like the vigelante I am. I took off my socks and pants, automatically heading for the bedroom when I paused.

Did it seem fair of me to use to bed when he was cramped up like that on the couch? Ehh…

Don't ask me why I did this, I was still fairly drunk and all. But I decided that it was only fair if both of us slept on the couch. So without further pause, I took the blanket from the foot of the bed and brought it into the living room. Then I nestled myself into the other end of the couch with the blanket over me. Elliots socked feet were nudged against my bare ones, but I was too tired to think of how weird this must seem.

All I knew was that I was going to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, I woke up with a start. You know how sometimes, you feel that someone is looking at you? That's what sort of happened.

I opened my bleary eyes, blinking.

Elliot was standing by the couch, staring down at me, holding a baseball bat in his hands. He looked pretty out of it, as if he had been frightened. But since I had just woken up, I did not understand as to WHY.

"Hey, you gonna go out and play baseball? Isn't it a little early for that?" I asked groggily, wiping the sleep form my eyes as I sat up on the couch, the blanket falling into a heap at my feet. But instead of a snarky comment, as I expected, Elliot answered me with a question of his own.

"Who are you and what-just what are you doing here?" he asked, eyes wide and a little crazed. He was wearing the same clothes from last night, but I detected a minty freshness which told me that he had brushed his teeth. Not that it was particularly important since I realized just why he was pointing a baseball bat at me.

He had totally forgotten who I was and how I got into his apartment. I gaped at him for a moment, unbelievable.

"Uhm, hello? We stayed up late last night and played videogames? It's me, your nemesis! " I said slowly, pointing at me repeatedly, like I was talking to a demented gorilla. For a second, it seemed as if he had heard that particular remark, as his face darkened momentarily. Then he blinked, as if stunned by his own reaction. What the hell was going on?

He let go of the baseball bat (phew!) and walked backwards until he sat down at one of the kitchen chairs, his face in his hands.

"I don't - I don't think you should be here now." he said, sounding deeply troubled. I couldn't understand it –then it occured to me.

"Are you hungover or something? " I asked tentatively, which garnered no response whatsover. He sat still as a statue, and I was beginning to wonder if he even heard me. I was also beginning to feel more than a little awkward, sitting on his couch with no pants on while he was apparently having some kind of existensial meltdown. I plucked at the blanket, not knowing what to say or do. I might have been his nemesis, but he had let me spend the night, so I might as well offer my sympathies.

I sighed, quickly getting off the couch to go put my pants on. After I did that I returned, and Elliot was no simply staring into space in front of him, like he had spotted something horrifying – like a wild ramaging elephant with lyme decease. I approached him until I was right next to him.

"Eh, Want me to get you some tylenol?" I asked. This is when I made a big mistake.

I put my hand firmly on his shoulder, like a normal sign of comfort. That woke him up from whatever horrible daydream he was having. He pratically recoiled from my touch, by doing so almost falling out of the chair. He got up, staring at me with a lot of anger, his fists clenched at his sides. I started, taking a few steps back. His response surprised me a lot – he had seemed like such a chill guy. But apparently, I was very wrong.

"I want you to leave. Right now!" he almost growled, but it sounded more desperate than threatening. Irked, I glared at him. There was no need to be rude.

"Fine by me. Bye." I muttered, calmy walking to the door to collect my jacket and put on my shoes. The funny thing about me when I'm angry, is that it never lasts for too long. It blossoms up like an impressive wildfire, but dies down in a matter of minutes.

That is why, before I closed the door, I paused.

"Thanks for letting me sleep over. That was….nice of you."

After that I did not wait for a response, and merely closed the door behind me.

* * *

I finally picked up my keys from work so that I could let myself into my own apartment. When I let myself in I sighed with contentment, happy to finally be home. It wasn't very big, but it had all the basic things an apartment should have. I was especially happy to have a bathtub – only the plumber was a little ditzy, so instead of it being in the bathroom it was planted in the tiny kitchen.

But hey, I could have breakfast and a morning bath at the same time! Not many people can say that.

Naturally, after a whole night spent on someone elses couch with little sleep, it felt like the right time to have a soak. It was around lunchtime now, so I had a sandwhich and an apple before filling up the water. I stripped off all of my clothes right in the hall and got in the tub. My short blonde hair felt greasy, and I relished in dipping my whole head under water so I could begin to wash it thouroughly.

So okay, you probably want to know what I look like right? I can hear you salivating with anticipation.

I guess you could say that I'm a curvy sort of gal, and no I do not mean washed-out old mom with flabby ass sort of curves – I mean curves likes of which atheletes have. Remember, I am constantly on my bike, straddling it, riding it into the sunset. My upper thighs are thick, but my lower legs are thin and toned. My stomach is flat like a wrong note and my boobs are amazing.

No honestly, they are.

Its no secret that everytime I'm out with my pals from work, they only want to fondle my boobs instead of some random girls. This is an excerpt from an actual conversation between my co-workers when we go out:

" _Oh my god."_

" _What, Earl?"_

" _She is wearing a bralette top."_

" _Sarah! Please, will you name one of them after me?"_

" _SHE IS WEARING A BRALETTE TOP!"_

" _I can't and I refuse to call my left boob Earl."_

" _My head hurts from looking at them. And yet, it is the best headache a man could have."_

Now, decide what you will from that. Aside from that, I have angel blue eyes (hahaha deceptive no?) and small heartshaped lips – my mom always called it my doll mouth, since it looks like it belongs on one of those victorian dolls. They're great too, except when it comes to sucking….popsicles.

Anyway, that's the whole 411 on my appearance (plus special insider information on my sex life, whoa).

* * *

It felt pretty good to take a bath, and my favorite combination is to have a bath and listen to some sick tunes. You know, some cool hipster music that only the cool kids like.

 _And she bangs, she bangs_

 _Oh baby_

 _When she moves, she moves_

 _I go crazy_

 _'Cause she looks like a flower but she stings_

 _Like a bee_

Okay, so my taste in music may or may not be a little stomach churning, or so people have told me. But dammnit, if I want to listen to the best of ricky martin and sing along at the top of my lungs, then I will! I nod along to the beat, as I empty a bottle of lavender bubble bath into the water, turning it a light shade of purple. I lean back against the back of the tub, closing my eyes and sighing with perfect bliss.

That's when the CD decides to go AWOL on me, and I realize that its stuck on repeat. I sigh with irritation, and sit up in order to fix it. See, I don't play music on my phone when I'm home. I have a neat little stereo which I use – and you guessed it, its mickey themed, just like my stationary. It's black and red, with two large mickey ears. An old relic from my youth which has managed to survive this far. But lately its been dancing on its last leg. It's sitting on the kitchen counter, and I just have to lean back in order to fix the issue with the cd.

But I miscalculate, and my hand manages to kick it down to the floor. When it lands, it makes a worrisome sparking noise. I wince, peering down over the edge of the tub to survey the damage. What I see makes my eyes widen and the hair at the back of my neck stand on end.

"Sweet jesus." I mutter.

Sometimes, my bathtub will start leaking out the bottom. This rarely happens, but when it does, it floods the whole kitchen floor, and I have to break out the mop and call the super. Add a broken, plugged in stereo to this mess, and you've got a floor that is electrified. If I take as much as a step on it, I'll get a buzz that'll make my teeth shatter. Great. The power of disney is truly electrifying.

I groan out loud and sit back in the tub, thinking over my options. I could climb over the kitchen counters and over to the open window and call for help, but the thing is, I'm stark naked. And even if I tried this, the counter is too far away to make it a safe climb, meaning that I could fall and hit the floor anyway. There's nothing on the floor around me that I can use to move around, as I dont have any chairs in the kitchen.

"Fuck nuggets and pee milkshake!" I scream, banging my head against the wall.

So that leaves me with two options.

1\. I can sit here and wait for the water to dry up from the floor. Which will take like, two days tops. Fun times.

2\. Or I can call someone to come rescue me, since I do have my phone sitting on the counter, which I can reach without hurting myself. But who would I call? Not the super, since he's only available on tuesdays and thursdays (and today is saturday).

My parents are on vacation in hawaii, so that leaves them out. I could call the tweedle twins, as they're pratically family to me anyways. Yeah, that's a good option.

I dash for the phone and call the first twin. Naturally, he doesn't answer. I try the other twin. Same thing there. Where the hell is your bosom buddies when you need them!?

Unfortunately, that leaves me only one more person to call, and I really, really dont want to call him.


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's note: I'm soooo sorry for not updating this story sooner. I just didn't have enough inspiration for it until now. But I promise that I'll give it more attention from now on._

* * *

I held my breath while it rang, thinking that he probably wasn't going to pick up anyway. He might be at work – or just not willing to answer it. At the same time, I wanted him NOT to answer. After all, this was a bit of an awkward situation. But my skin was getting all pruny, and the water in the tub was getting cold. I mean, I could choose to die of hypothermia and starvation, that was always an option.

But as luck/faith would have it, he picked up. Lucky me.

His voice sounded even deeper on the phone, making it feel like I had just dialed the angel of death.

"Hello." he said, and I almost flinched from the reciever. Forcing myself to sound cheery as pie, I answered.

"Heeeeey there Elliot, old pal. Listen, I have a somewhat _huge_ favour to ask of you."

There was a pause.

"I don't have pals." he said, his voice dry as the desert. I groaned, hitting my own forehead with my palm as water splashed around me in the process.

"I'm your archnemesis for goddsake! Blonde hurricane who slept on your couch, remember? You wanted to hit me with a baseball bat this morning?" I nearly yelled, probably sounding like a hysterical banshee.

"…..."

"Hello? You still there?" I asked, hoping the he hadn't slipped into another episode or something. But lo and behold, he was still there.

"I'm sorry about that…. Earlier." he said, sounding uncertain and regretful. But right now I was not exactly fishing for an apology. I was fishing for a safe escape out of the final destination deathtrap.

"That's okay, just help me for medusas sake!"

"What do you need?" he asked and I sighed.

"Well, you're not gonna believe this but I uh, my entire kitchen floor is electrified by water and I'm stranded in the tub."

"But thats in the bathroom?" He sounded very confused now.

"No, its in the kitchen."

"That's weird."

"No shit sherlock. Look, I'm completely helpless and naked and I really dont want my super to come barging in with his grimy paws all over, I'd rather it be you. "

"Burhguh, okay."

* * *

A half an hour later, Elliot came through my front door. By then, the water was freezing and I was more than ready to get out of it. Luckily, he came wearing rubber boots so that he could walk into the kitchen without suffering the consequences and get barbequed. He gingerly pushed the front door open, calling out to me as he did.

"Sarah?"

"Yeah, thats me." I said, doing jazzy hands in the tub because I couldnt help myself. He took another few steps into the apartment and froze on the spot when he saw me. Then he just stared and….stared. What the hell was the problem now?

Oh right, I was naked. This must be awkward for him. And it would have been for me, if I was one of those people who found nudity embarrassing. For whatever reason, I'd never really been selfconcious of my body. It just was.

I snapped my fingers several times so that Elliots giant wasp eyes would leave the sight of it and instead find my eyes. But by golly, did he look scared….and oddly amazed. Huh.

"Yo, champ! Stop standing there and come and help me."

* * *

With that said, Elliot set into motion. First he unhooked anything electrical that was still touching the floor, including the stereo I had dropped. Then he kindly fetched a bathrobe for me from the bedroom closet so that I could finally get out of the tub. By now, I was really freezing. But first I had to mop up the river of water that was currently taking up most of my kitchen floor like a bloody lagoon. At first I just took in the sight of it, my shoulders slumping with dismay as I saw a small new york rat paddle through it to get to the pantry.

I almost forgot about Elliot, who was still here and whom I still hadnt thanked for saving me. I turned to where he was standing in his boots, also staring at the mess on the floor. I put a heavy hand on his shoulder in a sense of cambraderie and he tensed in a big way. Oh right, he didn't like getting physical.

I quickly and swiftly removed my hand, grinning up at him sheepishly, to show that I knew that I had made another faux paus and meant no ill will.

"Well, E-man. Two thumbs up for coming to my rescue, truly. " I said, giving him two actual thumbs up to which he stared at me like I came from planet zorg. He retreated a step, blinking his big eyes rapidly.

"That's okay. You're welcome." he said, opening my front door and about to step out when I called out.

"Well, I'm gonna get started cleaning this up. And Elliot..." I said, and he stopped in the doorway, waiting for what I was about to say.

"Yeah?" he asked, his voice once again normal and broody. I turned away from the sight of the kitchen and threw him a michievous grin.

"Would you say that I'm a c-cup or a D? Because honestly, the staff at victorias secret are a bunch of liars. I need an honest opinion about this and you seem like an honest guy..."

And without so much as a blush, stutter or hesitation, Elliot replied with all the confidence of an american eagle, his face dead serious.

"D." he quickly replied, before exiting the apartment, slamming the door in the process.


	6. Chapter 6

So after Elliot left in such a dramatic fashion, I buried into my warmest winter coat to warm myself up after sitting in the icy tub all day – but that only lasted a couple of minutes since new york was still under siege of a heatwave. Then I sort of forgot about Elliot all together – that is, until I would bump into him unexpectedly again the next day.

* * *

I was supposed to show up for work the next morning like usual, but the boss phoned in just as I was about to wake up and sieze the day by its ankles. Need me to translate that? Fine, at the tender hour of 7:30 am.

My phone was on the nightstand right next to my too big bed for the teeny tiny apartment that I called my own. I thought I had ordered a single and instead they delivered me a queen size one- even though it took up most of the space of my bedroom floor, it was the most comfortable thing I had ever slept on.

When I heard the phone ring, I at first thought it was the alarm clock so I just flung out my hand from under the covers and did a karate chop in the direction of the ringing sound. The phone went flying onto the floor, answering the call in the process so that I could be properly awakened to the sound of my boss cursing up a storm in my bedroom.

It was like having my very own dirty mouthed wakeup call.

"IF YOU'RE STILL SLEEPING LIKE A HOG IN TWO SECONDS SO HELP ME I'LL-"

I groggily sat up in bed and fumbled for my phone, smacking my lips contently before I answered.

"Mmm, hey Boss man. What's up?" I asked slowly, opening my eyes to the early morning sunlight streaming through my kitchen window. But I was quickly alot more alert after what he said next.

"I'll tell you what's up – guess who won the accident poll this morning." his gruff voice proclaimed, and my eyes went wide as I blinked several times.

"Huh, what?" I asked, and I could hear a string of angry, frustrated muttering on the other end.

"It's you, Scout. It finally happened, just like you predicted. " Oh no. I knew what that meant. I was fully awake by now as I shook off the covers on the bed and swung my legs over the side.

"Oh my god, are they okay?" I asked, worried. My boss just sighed on the other end.

"Well how would you feel after driving smack into a truck carrying 500 bottles of milk? It's nothing fatal though, so keep your panties untwisted. Tweedle-Dee got off easy with a couple of bruises, but Dum got a concussion – lost five seconds of memory plus temporary control of his bladder. Not that it mattered much, since they were both covered in milk so nobody could tell. "

Remember that poll I was telling you about earlier? The one where all of us employees bet on who is going to have an accident next that will land them in hospital? Yeah, this was about that and thanks to my superior gambling instincts, I had just earned about 500 dollars in cash plus a day off. I relaxed, a smug smile taking over my concerned face as I leaned back on the bed.

"So I won the poll huh? "

"Yes, and you know what that means. Goddamn it all..."

* * *

So with another day off plus some extra cash, I decided to spend the day by heading down to 14th street to stock up on goodies and new clothes and visit my parents in greenwich village.

Unlike some other young people working in the city, my parents still lived here. But that's not the only thing that's different about them.

Okay, I guess I have to say it. They're hippies. It took me years of therapy to accept this and to live with this knowledge, but there it is.

But they're not poor or anything. Actually both of them are pretty rich because of what they do, which is sorta baffling to me. My mother for example – Henrietta King. She's a homeopathic healer who loves crystals and knows everything about the solar exclipse and has a pracise at our family home. Some of her clients are actually famous people (I'm not supposed to say who exactly, but one of them was definitely a member of the beatles). She's also, you guessed it – vegan.

Then there's my dad, Fred King. I kind of respect his job more than mom's, which is a secret I will take to my grave. He is a vet whose clientele are all from the upper westside and carries their dogs (and cats) in purses all day long. But the animals are cute and I adore all animals in general so despite the human owners, its a good job. On occation he also gets called in for emergency care of animals in captivity, like in zoo's and stuff. When I grew up, he even had to take care of some of these animals until they could be better cared for or let go into the wild. Once we had an orangutang staying in our basement and it ate all the ice cream out of the freezer. Dad is also a vegan, and the last time he watched me eat a cheeseburger he sobbed and had to leave me alone at mcdonalds.

His practise is also at home, which would tell you that our house is pretty big. And yes, they live in a house, a brownstone of five floors. It sounds spacious, but our private home was always just the two top floors while the rest was for their respective work and storage space.

And when I was two, my parents say that I hid my poop somewhere in the building and they have never found it since.

* * *

Since it's hard to park your bike in the busy shopping districts I decide to leave Josie at home for a change as I take the subway to union square. After a few hours of shopping for new trainers (old ones got stuck in liquid asphalt – don't ask.) and graphic t-shirts with awesome statements on them such as "in the name of the moon I shall punish you!" I headed over to my parents house.

Since I had lost my keys, I had to buzz myself in. Then I tried shouting, since I had also forgotten my phone at home.

"HELLO! MOMMYKINS ITS YOUR FAVORITE ONLY CHILD, OPEN UP!"

I tried to do this several times until I realized that they were probably both busy with clients and thus could not hear me buzzing them. There was only one thing to do.

I was going to have to break into my own childhood home.

* * *

Admittedly, this was not the first time I was doing this. Back in high school if I stayed out late, I would climb the drainpipe and go into one of the open windows since the house did not have any fancy schamncy alarm system.

Although, I had never done this during the daytime with people around. It would look suspicious and weird probably. And maybe, if I had been a normal person, this would register in my brain as a bad idea.

But I already had two double frappochinos today so nothing and nobody could stop me. Except maybe for another thing about this idea that I had not taken into account. High school me versus the now me had very different muscle-build. I was a skinny thing then and very light. Probably more stupid too.

I was just struggling to wedge my thigh into a window that was only open a few inches when I heard a familiar voice down below, calling my name.

" _Oh Juliet, where for arth thou Juliet?"_

Well, actually it was something a bit more realistic than that.

"Sarah!"

I looked over my shoulder (which in my current position dangling from the drainpipe with one leg balancing precariously on a window ledge from the first floor) and let out a surprised noise when I saw who was calling my name.

"Elliot, hey! Nice day for a breaking and entering!" I said. He was standing casually with his hands in the pockets of his black hoodie, and it seemed as if he had been standing there watching me for some time. He did not look surprised, his eyes speculative and half lidded.

"What are you doing?" he asked, sounding more curious than anything else. I huffed and rolled my eyes at him as I continued to try and squeeze myself through the tiny opening in the window like I was alice in frickin wonderland.

"Uhm, did you know that breaking and entering is an olympic sport? I'm practising for the gold medal." I said as I tried once again but with no further results. I let out a frustrated grunt and leaned my head against the wall for moral support.

Behind me, Elliot helpfully said nothing in response. After some more futile huffing and puffing I realized that I should probably tell him the real reason for what I was doing in case he decided to be the good samaritan and call the cops. I pulled my leg down and hopped back to the sidewalk and adjusted my now very dirty jeans.

"Actually, my parents live here and i have lost my keys." I explained, and Elliot eyed the building up and down appriciatevly.

"Nice place." he commented as I stormed up to the door and eyed it with a maniacal glint in my eyes before I gave it a good, hard kick.

"Yeah, but would it _kill them_ to leave windows fully open once in awhile?" I purposefully shouted in the vain chance that they would hear me, but all it was doing was making me look like a raving lunatic.

In the background, Elliot nodded sagely.

"I'm starting to see why they keep them closed." he said, in the same unaffected dry tone as ever but there was a tiny smirk on his lips. I narrowed my eyes at him. _Oh yes, laugh at my pain all you want._ I collected my shopping bags from the sidewalk and sighed, intent on heading home.

"Oh hardy har har. I'll just have to come back another day I guess." I said to him, but Elliot had disappeared. I looked around wildly, confused – where the hell was he!?

 _Missing Person: Elliot Anderson_

 _Clothing: Fall out boy meets cool hipster kid_

 _Other ways of identification: likes computers, codenumbers and cute little dogs._

Oh, he was just over by the door, tinkering with the buzzing system. Of course.

"Elliot, what are you doing?"

"I'm hacking."

"I don't hear you have a cough, are you sick?"

He turned his head and gave me a look, like I had stepped on his tail or something. Not that he had one, but his theoretical one. He was holding a tiny screwing device and the front lid of the buzzer was gone. He had pulled his hood up, supposedly so that nobody could identify him. He had a look of bored indifference on his face, while his hands worked expertly with the screwdriver.

Wait, should I hide my face too?

I hastily pulled on my new york giants cap from my bag and scooched closer to see what he was doing. Not that I could understand any of it of course – he took out some shiny green plastic disc with lots of little technical gadgets and wires on it – gently took out a white wire and connected it to something else and then a buzzing sound from the door came. He put everything back where it was with a speed I was not ready for, then opened the door.

My mouth came open like a goldfish as I stared at him and the open door.

"Oh my god. You are a wizard. An evil wizard but still."

"I wouldn't go that far..."

"Wait, here – you deserve a prize."

I rummaged around in one of my shopping bags a moment before I found it, grinning as I handed it over to him with much excitement. Elliot did not share the same amout of glee as he stared down at it.

"It's an apple."

"Aha, and you can even eat it too! Lots of vitamins!"

"Hardy har har." he parroted, before taking a big bite, his eyes meeting mine as he did. Something...weird passed between us. We were both quiet for a moment, staring at the other while he chewed. Then I snapped out of it, blinking rapidly – must be the summer sun working its magic on my brain again.

"Well, thanks anyhoo. " I said, giving him a polite little wave as he sauntered off, still eating that damn apple.


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's note: It's finally back, whohoo! Told you it would come back, all you nay sayers. And I have lots of fun things planned ahead._

* * *

Then there was actually a whole week of bliss where I did not see neither hair nor hide (err) of Mr. Elliot Anderson Underpants.

It was just me, my work and sunny new york. Wait, that rhymes doesn't it?

Alas, my pure joy did not last for lo and behold on monday morning when I showed up for work like usual, I was given my usual daily list of packages and parcels I needed to deliver.

And ding dong, Allsafe was on the top of my list. Great – just fucking great. Wincing at what is to come, I walk up to my boss daintily, hoping that he will cut me some slack.

"Uh boss...do I really have to take this specific order? " I ask, pointing to the paper in my hand.

His reddened face and murder eyes is answer enough, and I back away carefully without mentioning it again.

But hey, look on the bright side! Perhaps this package is not supposed to be delivered to his division at all. Perhaps this I can just drop off on the entrance level and then get the hell out of dodge. Yeah, thats probably it. God loves me and today he can ultimatily prove it!

My mood is good as I sonic-speed my way across the busy streets, angry yells from taxi drivers and old women not able to penetrate my bubble of happiness. I am wearing my new cool sneakers, which makes me feel like I can bike 100 miles in at least.

When I was younger I was apart of many a competitions of the mountain bike variety and I always won, save for one time I came second because I broke my arm on a treacherous bransch. So yeah, competitiveness is in my blood, I thought you should know.

I arrive at allsafe some time before lunch, unloading the package from my cart. Then I happen to look more closely at what is written on it and I groan out loud.

 _Package specifics:_

 _To be delivered to : Elliot Anderson, programming division - no exceptions_

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I yell, making a nearby flock of pigeons skedaddle out of fear.

* * *

Update : I have a new theory about god – he either hates me or he just likes to torture me for fun. There is no in-between.

While I ride the elevator up, I put on my sunglasses and try to look as nonchalant and calm as possible. I am not upset about this – really, I'm not. Elliot has in fact proven to be kind when prodded, since he has actually rescued me on three occations so far.

But see- he has once threatened me with a baseball bat and he is just generally quite annoying, so I am entitled to feel the way I feel. Which is confused and not entirely sure the boy can be trusted. And also – nobody that good looking should be wearing long sleeves in the summer.

I blink at that thought for a second before I give myself a firm slap in the face.

The elevator door pings and I reluctantly get out.

"Here you go. Now sign it so I can go eat my lunchtime burrito."

I am holding out his package with one hand, making sure not to look directly at him – instead I pretend to be very interested in the view outside the large windows, even though I've just come from the outside and am very aware of what skyscrapers look like.

After a moment I feel him take the package from my hands, then I hear the faint scribble of a pen.

However, curiosity gets the best of me (god damnit) and I do my best to sneakily glance over at him without him noticing.

To my shock and horror, he is already watching me back. What the fuck.

"You can't do that!" I exclaimed, my face going red – not from anger though.

"What?" he asks, his voice suddenly high-pitched and slighty terrified, as if he's been caught commiting a crime.

"I am the sneaky one here, you are supposed to be deep into your work – programming the keyboard so that it only works if you play the beethovens symphony first on it or something. Thats what computer nerds do, or so I hear."

He visibly relaxes then, a strange little smirk forming on his Gollum face.

"I suppose I am a nerd."

"Not that there's anything wrong with that." I am suddenly quick to add. Why did I say that? Elliot, witnessing my internal confusion, seems very amused and entertained. The jerk.

"Right." he says, now turned back to his computer but still smiling. I realize that this is the first time I've seen him smile like that. I shrug at him and cross my arms over my chest.

"So yeah, bye then I guess." I mutter before walking away. But not before I hear his voice again.

"I'll be seeing you." he says smoothly, to which I scoff rather loudly.

"Not likely."

* * *

Next time it happens, it is not even a coincidence.

Because this time on the package, the specifics are clearly handwritten by a specific paranoid someone who is out to get me.

 _Package specifics:_

 _To be delivered to: Elliot Anderson, no exception - and only if messenger answers correctly to my question._

I crumple the paper in my hand and fling it against my boss head, who freezes on the spot as I make my great escape. The betting pool has now changed – instead of accidents on the road we are counting down to "accidents" in the office, caused by our dark lord.

"Do you even like Lord of the rings?" is the first thing that comes out of my mouth when I deliver his next package. This time his eyes remains glued to the computer screen as he answers. He looks more tired than last time, his eyes a little wider and more alert.

"I haven't seen it."he responds quickly, which is such an offensive answer my mouth stumbles upon itself.

"Not IT – them, it's a trilogy." I say, because he – along with 99 % of kids his generation should know this by heart. But he just shrugs cheerfully and continues tippy-tapping away on his computer like he just didn't offend millions of devoted LOTR fans all over the world.

"Oh, okay."

"Anyway, here's your package. Sign it."

But Elliot just turns in his chair and smiles at me, making no attempt to sign. I glare at him for a moment before giving up with a sigh.

"Fine, ask your question then."

Then, for some strange reason his dark eyes land briefly on my hand that is holding out the package to him. Like he finds something interesting there, like a ladybug or something. And there it is that….strange something between us. The silence becomes unbearable. I shift from foot to foot, impatient.

"Uhm, Elliot? Earth to Elliot – come in Elliot." I say, snapping my fingers which causes him to startle out of his apparent trance.

"Huh?" he asks and I roll my eyes.

"Something is very wrong with you, you know that? Wasn't there something you were going to ask? I really need to pee and this is taking way too long. " Which is true, because I drank up my water bottle on the way here.

He stares at me in silence for a second, eyes focused and wide. It must be a pretty important question.

"What are you doing on saturday?"


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's note: Short chapter from Elliots POV - next chapter will be much longer :)_

* * *

 _I can't help it._

 _I'm hacking her again._

 _Her facebook has been updated five times since I last checked – her text conversations are minimal, but she likes to fuck around with emails, sending fake spam to her boss. Does she hate him or is this something else? A fondness? I don't know._

 _But she has no records with the police. Her browser history is like a junkyard – she is so curious about many things, the correct definition of "thoughtlessness", the perfect recipe for_ cinnamon _brownies. Why am I hacking her again?_

 _I want to find something bad. Something that can make me stop liking her. But I can't._

 _I lied when I said that I hadn't seen Lord of the rings. If I'm Gollum then she must be something heavenly, I don't know what. But I can't say that to her. Not yet._


	9. Chapter 9

_author's note: fun fact, the game mentioned in this chapter is one that I played myself in my childhood._

* * *

I have to admit, I was kind of surprised at this turn of events.

Because I had gotten a distinct impression that Elliot didn't like me all that much. Speaking for myself, I still thought he was an unstable and aggravating individual.

So why did I say yes when he asked me to come with him to this party?

* * *

Okay, so I was a little intrigued when he said that it was an opening party for a new arcade place downtown. He must have remembered how intensely I'd played mario kart at his place a few weeks ago.

Funny thing was that Elliot didn't strike me as the partying type, or the socializing type at all. But I didn't say so to him, curious as to how the night would go.

The opening started at 6 pm, which meant that it was better to arrive an hour later. Rather than having Elliot pick me up from my apartment (that would be too much like a real date – which I wasn't sure if this was or not) we would meet up just outside the entrance of the arcade.

Rather than spending five hours on an outfit, I slipped into my favorite pair of jeans and an old, faded green t-shirt with the Camp rock disney logo printed on the front, thankfully sans the Jonas brothers faces on it. Then I put on a light layer of makeup and my favorite raspberry red lipgloss, and with that I was almost good to go!

Now, the one accessory I could not leave the house without (except for emergency tampons) was my lucky bracelet. I'd had it since I was a kid, a gift from my (now late) grandmother. She and I had been eerily similar, and my parents rarely let her babysit because they said we were like "a lit match and gasoline" - meaning that we got up to a whole bunch of trouble. She was a pretty cool grandma, much more punk rock than my hippie she'd been alive long enough to play pokemon go, she would have been team Valor for sure. It was because of her that I now sported the tattoo of a cartoon lion on my hip. The bracelet was of silver, and from it hung several charms – a four leaf clover, the head of a lion, two skulls and a tiny painted british flag with Sid Vicious's face in the middle.

I put on a black pair of converse sneakers and grabbed my casual purse before walking out the door.

* * *

There was a surprising number of people loitering around outside the arcade when I arrived. But despite that, it was still easy to spot Elliot among them – mostly because he was the only one completely dressed in black. He was hunched over against the wall of the building, lazily scanning the crowd when our eyes met. I smiled and waved at him, something he did not. Well, poo to him. Can't say I was surprised though, since this was Elliot after all – hardly the embodiment of cheer and delight.

When I strolled up to him however, I noticed that his dark gaze did not stay on my face, but appeared to travel up and down my body. But it was so quick, I wasn't sure if he was actually doing what I think he was doing – namely checking me out.

Shrugging, I nodded to the door.

"Well, shall we head inside?"

My heart was soaring, my soul was racing. I felt myself go starry-eyed as I looked around the room, recognizing several old and rare games I hadn't played since I was a kid. They even had the super-scary jurassic park lost world one with the guns! And what was even better was the fact that there were no long lines to any of the games, since most of the adults here favored to drink and hang around the open bar for the party.

Wide-eyed and filled to the brim with excitement, I grabbed Elliot's arm and shook him slightly.

"Oh my god Elliot, we have to play that right now!"

"Uh, don't you want anything to drink first?"

"Drink!? My god man, we have dinosaurs to defeat. Time is of the essence!"

And so I dragged a slightly stunned and bewildered Elliot inside the large booth, but as soon as we were inside I was careful to let him go, remembering how touchy-feely he was sometimes. Feeling like a kid at christmas, I rubbed my hands together for a second before picking up the blue plastic gun from its holster like Arthur lifting the sword from the stone.

Silently, Elliot took the red gun for himself while I popped a coin into the slot. The game started almost immediately – its synthesized music a poor version of the jurassic park theme.

It was a lot harder than I remember, and at first we lost quite easily against the onslaught of attacking velociraptors from every corner. Finally, after once again being clawed to death by one of them I dropped to my knees and screamed.

"God-damn razorteethed ratfuckers from hell!" I exclaimed, kicking the side of the machine for good measure. I was startled out of my temper tantrum when I heard a curious noise to my right.

Elliot was laughing.

It was such a startling sight that I could do nothing but stare at him. His mouth had split into a wide grin, his usually hollow eyes warm as he looked down at me.

"Ratfuckers, nice one."

* * *

Instead of giving up and moving onto the next game, we decided to do what good gamers always do – battle through it until you win. Soon enough, we developed a strategy – where I would shoot and kill all the big dinosaurs and the ones in the foreground while Elliot would focus on the smaller ones – since he was a lot faster, more precise with the gun. Our conversation shifted into that of two soldiers facing a war against mutated reptiles.

"Go left – no lower. How many?"

"Twelve – five on you right. Hit the double ammo!"

"No, you take it – you need it more than me."

"Watch out for that big tail!"

But as the levels progressed and the game got harder and harder, the dinosaurs sprinted at us from every direction on the screen. We had to stand very close together in order to get them all, our shoulders only brushing at first, then I realized that I was almost leaning against his side. But he didn't seem to mind at all.

After awhile, a lot of the partygoers became interested in our game, coming over to watch as we got close to the end of the whole game.

When the t-rex popped up on screen, I yelped. It was a lot bigger than I remembered!

"Shit Elliot, I don't know if we're gonna make it."

A whole crowd of people (drunk or otherwise) cheered us on in the background. Turning away from the screen, Elliot looked me in the eye, ignoring them.

"Why not?" he asked, quite simply.

"I never played this far in the game before!" I confessed, staring at the screen as the t-rex advanced menacingly. Elliot reloaded his gun, turning back to the screen with a stoic expression on his face.

"Don't worry, I have."

And with that he took a deadly aim into the mouth of the t-rex and fired. It went down like a ton of bricks, and for a moment everything was quiet. Then the celebratory synth music started to play, and our shooting grade came up on the screen, announcing that we had won the game.

I started jumping up and down with excitement, and the crowd around us cheered, sloshing their drinks around and throwing popcorn in the air. I was so happy that in the midst of it all, I threw my arms around Elliot in a big hug.

Too late did I remember how he felt about these things, and reluctantly I let him go and smiled sheepishly at him.

"Sorry about that." I said, hoping that he wasn't too freaked out or offended. But to the contrary, he looked like he felt neither. Instead he was watching me with a strange intensity that made me almost blush. I was suddenly also very aware of the fact that we were standing close together in a small, dark booth. I looked down at my feet and started to laugh nervously.

"Ahem, we can get that drink now if you want."


	10. Chapter 10

After getting a beer at the open bar (Elliot only got a bottle of water) we played a couple of more games, some of them for single players and others you had to be two in order to play, like with the jurassic park one.

After a particularly sweaty session of DDR, we both decided to go get something to eat. Elliot had declined playing this particular game, instead acting as a human bumper pillow when I fell and slipped on the platform near the end, steadying me with a large hand fisted into my t-shirt.

Elliot said he knew a good pizza place nearby, so there we went. It was small and almost deserted, despite being a saturday night. I was a little skeptical at first, but the pizza turned out to be amazing.

"Man, it's been a long time since I played those games." I said, laughing a little, wiping some melted cheese off my chin with a napkin. I knew I ate like a hog when I was hungry, but Elliot didn't seem to mind. He ate slowly, picking at the crust of his carbonara pizza.

"You seemed pretty expert at it, from what I could tell." he said, something humorous in his eyes that made me smirk. I finished my first slice and went straight to my second.

"Ah, only because I had some wild teenage years and an arcade near my high school. Besides, you weren't too bad yourself." I said, munching happily. Elliot wasn't a big talker, but I noticed that I was getting better and better at reading his expressions. He was keeping my gaze steadily now, his usually dark eyes somehow not so burdened and cold.

"Thanks."

* * *

After we'd eaten and just gotten outside the pizzeria, I happened to look up at the sky and nearly gasped at what I saw. I hastily tugged on Elliot's black sleeve several times, and he looked at me, confused.

"Oh my god – Elliot! Look, look, look!"

"What?"

I pointed upward to the sky. I had totally forgotten about it until now, but there was going to be a meteor shower tonight.

"I had no idea we were going to be able to see them from the city." I said, staring up at it. It was a pretty breathtaking sight, and I hugged my arms to myself, suddenly feeling a slight chill in the air. The heatwave that had ruled over the city must be going away. But it didn't really bother me.

I looked to Elliot to see if he was looking – and he was. But instead of looking awed or happy he looked...sad somehow.

"Elliot, is something wrong?" I asked, frowning in concern as he blinked and looked away.

"No, uh – just tired I guess."

"Oh right, it must be around midnight by now. Are you going to take the subway home? We can ride together for a bit if you want."

Elliot didn't say anything, but nodded. As we began to walk to the nearest subway station, something gnawed at me.

"Hey, do you have my phone number? I have yours, and it only seems fair if you have mine too." I said, shrugging and attempting to sound super-casual. Something that Elliot naturally picked up on. He gave me a strange look that made it difficult to tell if he was flirting or not.

"And you're sure you want to give it away?" he asked, looking at me sideways, eyes slightly hooded. And also, what an infuriating question. I rolled my eyes and kicked a nearby empty soda can.

"What-ugh of course I'm sure! " I exclaimed. Elliot was quiet for a moment, then he said in a new, odd sort of tone of voice that was a little too serious for my liking.

"Number can be hacked you know."

I came to a stop right in front of him, which meant that he had to stop because I was in his way. His eyes widened at the sudden movement.

"Oh duh, I know that and I dont care – who knows, maybe the zombie apocalypse will happen tomorrow, and wouldnt it be supergreat if I was listed in your phone if such a scenario occurred? " I asked. The expression on his face was unreadable – it looked like he wanted to laugh, but didn't.

"You-" but I was not finished. I threw up my hands in the air, wildly gesticulating my feelings.

"Or I don't know, maybe you'd fancy a rematch in mario kart with a girl who can actually name all mario characters from memory alone?"

There, now he seemed to get it. Maybe my delivery could have been a little bit better. He merely stared at me in complete silence for a moment. It was a little unnerving. Then wordlessly, he dug out his phone and handed it to me.

"Type it in then."

* * *

Somehow, the subway was even colder than what it was like above ground. I stomped a couple of times on the platform, attempting to stop shivering. Elliot looked over at me, silently observing me looking like an idiot.

"You okay?" he finally asked. I turned to him with a strange smile on my face, trying to stay positive.

"Sure! Of course! Tonight was really fun huh? " I asked, but Elliot was still giving me that look like he was watching a drunk trying to recite the alphabet backwards.

"Your teeth are chattering."

"They are? Fuck me. I mean no – not me!Just the expression, ugh beans and potatoes. "

Elliot tilted his head at me and smiled.

"You make even less sense than me sometimes."

Immediately after he said it though, he looked surprised at himself. Huh, weird.

"If I sound funny its only because I am going crazy with frostbite." I said, glaring at him. He shook his head.

"You do not have frostbite, I don't think. "

"Yeah you're right, I am just being a tad dramatic. "

As we got on the train, neither of us spoke much, content to sit in silence for a while. We watch other people get on and get off, until it was my stop. When I got up from my seat and turned to say goodnight to him, I came face to face with a black hoodie.

He had taken it off, handing it to me. I did not hesitate in putting it on, and as soon as I did I almost shivered with delight at how fluffy and warm it was. I resisted pinching his cheek with delight and instead gave him a happy smile.

"You just saved my life." I proclaimed dramatically. I could tell that Elliot was not used to people joking around with hin like this or behaved silly, but it startled a laugh out of him nonetheless. It sounded like he didn't laugh much.

"Don't get used to it. "

"Whatever, see you later Elliot." I said, getting up from my seat and out the subway doors. I could hear his voice behind me.

"Yeah, see you later."


	11. Chapter 11

_I know I should delete her number._

" _Why should you Elliot?" my therapist asks, and I have to answer her. She expects to hear the truth. The truth is that I am too far gone. The truth is that I am selfish, not a good person._

" _Because I'm scared, I guess."_

" _Scared of what?"_

 _Of her realizing her mistake, seeing finally who I am and what I do._

" _Disappointment."_


	12. Chapter 12

Running into your catty high school friend while still wearing your sweaty work uniform is not the top of my list of fun things, but hey – its always nice to see friends. My blond hair is tousled all over, because as usual I forgot my helmet.

"Yo bitch, bend over and I'll smack ya!"

I stand corrected, some friends are nicer to run into than others.

"Hey Brittany, nice to see you too." I say, and she leans forward to give my cheeks air-kisses. Gross, but I am grateful that she doesn't actually kiss my cheeks, since her lips are covered in a thick layer of gunk.

"What is that stuff on your lips?" I ask, and she pouts them for good measure.

"Duh, liquid lipstick. Girl, what are you doing right now?" she asks flippantly, rummaging through her fake gucci bag as she speaks.

"I just got off work, why?" I ask, and she shrugs one shoulder. But I can see how she eyes me critically.

"Well, I am actually on my way to this awesome pool party on a hotel roof in the meatpacking district."

"So?" I ask, having no idea why she is telling me this.

"Well I thought you could come join me. I'm sure they have a shower there too so you don't have to smell."

"Well, gee when you put it like that. Too bad that I don't have a bikini on me..."

"That's okay, I have a spare. So, what do you say? In or out?"

* * *

I like swimming in pools, don't get me wrong. But when there is a risk of swimming right into a pool of floating vomit, I tend to not like it so much.

But luckily, this time the water looks clear and all of the partygoers (so far) appear moderatly sober. I tug at the bikini bottoms and frown – as I should have expected, Brittany's bathing clothes are like all her regular clothes – not exactly skimpy per say (though that can be argued) but extremely tacky.

The bikini I'm wearing has a leopard pattern in blue and hot pink – with Barbie written in golden letters on my backside.

But I am not going to focus on that. Instead I am going to focus on getting in the pool, which is thankfully not packed with people since most of them are laying around it on sunchairs or on towels.

I look up and the sky is a perfect blue, the sun beaming down. I smile and flick some water at Britanny, who gives me a dirty look. She is standing close to the pool by a bar where they're serving summer drinks and playing loud music.

"Ugh my makeup! This fenty stuff is expensive!" She complains and I snigger.

* * *

An hour later, the pool area is a lot more crowded. My original plan was just to do a few laps and then call it quits, but then this guy shows up – a very good looking guy I might add. He looked like a mix between Tom Bateman and Dan Stevens. He was dressed in a pair of navy blue swim trunks and nothing else, showing off a bod that must have been sculpted by horny angels.

He stands by the side of the pool, hands in the pockets of his trunks and looks down at me, and for a moment I mistake him for the sun because he practically glows with charistma, a chunk of his golden hair hanging down sexily over his forehead. I'm glad to still be in the pool at this point, since otherwise I would have fallen over from his sheer manliness.

"Hey there." he says, and I smile like the cat that got the cream, leaning over the edge of the pool.

"Hey there yourself." I say back. He crouches down and I get a nice side-peek up his trunks.

"Been here long?" he asks and I shake my head.

"Not very, you?"

"I just came to check it out. I'm Tom by the way."

Oh my fucking god his nameeee.

"I'm Sarah." I say, my eyes twinkling. His eyes twinkle back FUCK YES!

"Can I buy you a drink, Sarah?"

I clap my hands with excitement.

"Yes please!"

* * *

I try my best to appear sophisticated in front of Tom (who sounds like a british gentleman) but there is little chance of that happening in a bikini designed by Barbie herself. Instead of attempting to slide up on a bar stool choose to lean casually. Tom does not need to lean against anything to appear suave and cool.

"What'll it be?" he asks, and I shrug, too occupied by staring into his perfect baby blues.

"Oh I don't know, maybe a cosmo." I say, and that is when Britanny chooses to magically appear at my side, sneering.

"Cosmo! Geez girl, you are so boring. Bartender, give her a lemonade shot!" she hollors, snapping her acrylic nails in the air to get the bartenders attention.

* * *

Okay, so maybe I had more than one drink. But so did Tom so that makes us both just as drunk! Twinsiesss!

The sun is almost setting now and the party is in full-swing. A dj has appeared out of thin air and is now playing only Avicii and Usher songs, even though the manager has told him to stop five times now. Brittany is making out with a guy dressed as jack sparrow by the bar, which makes me wonder if this party is part of a movie event.

"Hey, what is this shot called?" I ask at the shot glass just handed to me. Tom blinks and looks confused.

"Uh, hungarian starfish!"

"Ohmygod thatzz so pretty...haha I'm going to drink this one with my eye."

Okay OW OW OW OW! That stings! Bad idea – new idea? Tom is staring at a blow-up pineapple when I nudge him. His hair is all tousled now, but still pretty hot. There is a tiny purple paper umbrella behind his ear.

"Hey! Let's play a game!"

"Huh, what kind of ga-"

"Tag! You're it!"

I start running through the crowd of people, and when I look back I see that Tom is chasing me. He is not exactly running straight, but neither am I. By this point many of the guests are cursing us for spilling their drinks and bumping into them, but neither of us cares.

Then I have the brilliant idea of starting to run around the pool. I can't stop laughing as I run, getting distracted by the faces Tom is making behind my back.

Then it finally (and inevitably happens). I slip and fall.

* * *

You know those scenes in movies, when a person gets into an accident and everything happens in slow-motion? This was exactly like that.

The slipping part was even sort of fun. Banging my head against the edge of the pool? Not so much.

It all becomes sort of fuzzy after that. I am dimly aware of getting cold and wet, then I feel myself submerged in water. But my head hurts too bad and I can't stay awake.

Something rushes in my ears, louder and louder. I wake up but I can't open my eyes or move.

Someone's hand on my cheek, my jaw. A scream. Someone pushing me on my side, water leaking out of my mouth. A hand on my shoulder, roughly shaking me.

"Open your eyes goddamn it!"

This time I find that I can. My vision isn't blurry, I can see fine. But as soon as I open my eyes I start coughing up lots of water. I feel a towel surrounding my body suddenly, around my shoulders. Carefully I sit up, expecting Tom to be the one who helped me.

Instead I find another familiar face.

"Elliot?"

He is a sight to behold. His grey t-shirt is soaked through, and so are his black jeans. His usual black mohawk-thing is lying flat against his head, like a dead cat. He is looking at me like I'm some sort of ghost, his face pale. His chest is heaving, like he just ran a mile. I realize that I have my hand on his thigh.

"Oh god, I'm sorry – " I say, about to move my hand away when he makes a strange noise in his throat.

A second later I am enveloped in his arms in a tight (wet) hug.


	13. Chapter 13

Waking up with a head injury and a hangover is not something I recommend.

"Ughhhhh…." I moaned, not wanting to open my eyes.

My memories of last night were vague. I remembered going to a pool party and staying longer than planned, and a cute guy buying me drinks. Many drinks…

I distinctly remember laughing and running, and then slipping on something. After that it was a big blur.

Wait...has my apartment always smelled of dog hair? I don't own a dog do I?

And my own bed is not this soft.

….Hold on.

With a lot of effort, I manage to crack both eyes open. I blink several times, my vision focusing first on the ceiling above my head. I turn my head to the side and see various bedroom furniture, along with a pretty expensive looking computer with matching speakers sitting on a desk. It looks vaguely familiar. Groaning a little, I start to slowly sit up with a hand against my head, since it is pounding away like a pulsating heart. I feel bandages around my head, covering part of my blonde hair.

 _Oh my god, just how bad did I bang my head last night?_

Suddenly I hear clinking noises, and I stop focusing on the pain. I lift my head and look ahead – finally realizing where the fuck I am.

The dark sofa, the television and the xbox. Small stylish coffee table that looks both shabby and enviably stylish. Small, fluffy black terrier staring at me from the floor? I must be at Elliot's apartment.

"Come here little guy..." I coo, beckoning my hands to the dog, and it starts wagging its tail happily, small legs moving rapidly to jump up on the bed. I scratch him behind the ears and stroke his fur, smiling at how friendly he is.

"He's not usually like that."

"Wahh!" I yelp, startled at the sudden voice. I look up to find Elliot standing next to the bed holding two cups of tea. Elliot is staring at Flipper, a tiny smile on his face. He holds one out to me and I take it. He looks like he always does, black hoodie and black tight jeans. I am actually tempted to look into his closet to see if he just stocks duplicates.

"There is a glass of water on the bedside table. Not hungry right?" he asks, to which I nod vehemently. If I ate anything now, I would just throw it up anyway.

"Actually no. What time is it anyway?" I ask, and without looking at any clock Elliot answers me. He looks distracted and somehow contained like there is something he's not telling me.

"10 am in the morning. But you are on sick leave, so you don't have to worry about being late for work. " he says very casually, the irate goblin boy. I almost choke on my tea with shock.

"WHAT?" I exclaim, which he completely ignores. Instead he has the gall to shrug and reach over me on the bed to fluff the pillows.

"You should probably eat something though, even if you're not hungry. How are you feeling?" he asks, looking me in the eye for the first time this morning. He looks actually concerned though so some of my ire evaporates.

"Like something tried to get into my skull with a pick-axe. " I mutter, taking another swig of the (surprisingly delicious) tea. Elliot carefully sits down on the edge of the bed, a hand absentmindedly petting Flipper who is now lying obligingly by my feet. It is then that i notice what I'm wearing beneath the covers - a plain grey t-shirt and boxers. I am too embarrassed to ask the obvious, and leave it at that.

"What do you remember?" he asks, and I close my eyes.

"I remember the party. But then its very fuzzy I…."

But just as I am about to say that I dont remember anything else, I remember seeing his face, filled with worry. That we were both drenched in water. My eyes widen with sudden clarity.

"You were there. You did something..."

"I pulled you out of the pool after you fell in. You hit your head on the concrete. " he answers, eyes dark and unreadable. I stare at him in astonishment for a moment.

"Holy shit."

"Yeah, holy shit." he says, agreeing.

"How come you were there?" I ask, and he blinks, diverting his eyes to the bedcovers.

"I uh, had a meeting at the hotel. Another company invited me there. After it was over I walked past the pool area and saw when you fell. "

I slap my hand on the covers and finally have the decency to thank him for his bravery.

"Elliot! You probably saved my life! Whatever can I do to repay yo-"

"Bedrest for three days." Elliot finishes, not blinking as he stares at me. I can tell he will be relentless on this issue.

"…..No."

"Doctors orders Sarah, not mine." he says, and I squint at him, scratching my bare arm thoughtfully.

"I dont remember a doctor. "

"You wouldn't – when we got to the emergency room you were very drunk and just had your head bashed in. You bit his fingers and I had to physically restrain you. "

I smile with delight.

"Cool."

Elliot blinks at me and looks to the side, and now I can see what this gesture means – he is trying not to smile.

"The doctor also said that it was best not to move you. That means that you will be here for the next three days."

Shit, he probably won't like that.

"Uhm, I get it if this doesn't work for you and I can just call a cab and do the bedrest thing at my place – really! I promise to move as little as possible on my way down the stairs!" I plead, but he just smiles lazily at me.

"You can stay here. Don't have much company over as it is. Perhaps that oughta change."

"Sleepovers! Yay! Now let me go buy us both breakfast-" I say quickly, swinging my feet over the edge of the bed. But Elliot gets up before I do, and bops his index finger against my nose.

"Nice try. I got some painkillers in the kitchen cabinet that you can have when your head starts hurting again, and it will. The nausea would pass in the next couple of days, given that you stay put." he says, walking towards the door, presumably to go get the breakfast himself. I huff and kick my legs against the covers like a child.

"Elliooooooooot. I am not made for idleness – it is the devil's tool after all! "

"Don't worry. I will find something to keep you occupied."


	14. Chapter 14

I was reading an old newspaper I found on the floor when Elliot came back shortly after, dumping a plastic grocery bag in front of me on the bed. I blinked and set down the paper and began to rifle through it like a racoon.

"I uh, didn't know what you liked to eat so I got a bunch of stuff..." Elliot said, sounding very awkward and unsure. He lingered by the bed, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie as he watched me. I looked up from the bag and smiled at him.

"Don't worry, I am not a picky eater. Especially since I am your houseguest, and as a houseguest, you are obligated to eat what you are being served or else you're very rude. And me? Im not known to be rude." I said triumphantly.

A pregnant pause followed, and if I didn't know any better I'd swear that Lord Emo was making fun of me. I frowned, blowing some blonde bangs out of my face.

"You are supposed to agree with me on that." I muttered. Elliot just shrugged, eyes glinting with smug humor. Just when I thought he was all shy and modest, he showed a masterlevel of sass.

* * *

After breakfast, Elliot opened his closet and started looking for something. After a bit, he came over with a large cardboard box. Because Elliot was Elliot, I was half-expecting it to contain a dead animal or something.

"What's this?"

"Something to keep you occupied with."

Then without further ado, he dropped the dusty box on the bedspread. I recognized the LEGO logo at the top corner immediately. But it wasn't just regular lego – it was one of those science project things. I picked it up and squinted.

"Build your own functioning robot?" I read aloud, with thinly veiled disappointment. Elliot shrugged and started loading stuff into his backpack.

"It's what got me into computers and programming in the first place." he said, shrugging. I looked at him, to the box and back again.

"You gotta be kidding me. I am not clever with bolts and wires!" I said, which was true. I never had the patience for anything involving a manual, which maybe explains why every electrical appliance in my apartment ends up dead at my sloppy hands. Elliot gave me one of his neutral stares, but you know he is secretly judging you.

"It's for kids aged 12 and up." he said, making me put a pillow over my head and hug my face into it.

"I still fail to see your point." I garbled through the pillow. It was quiet for a moment.

"See it as a test." he finally said. I removed the pillow and stared at him curiously.

"A test for what?" I asked. He shifted from foot to foot nervously, looking down at his feet.

"We'll see. I have a few things to do in town, but I'll be back later tonight."

Great. I get to spend a whole day fumbling around with a box of legos, not able to go anywhere. How great can this possibly get?

* * *

"Okay Mr. Robot. I don't like tests, and I don't like wires. But somehow, somewhere, this is going to become...something." I said, talking to the pile of plastic pieces in the box as I decoded the instructions in the tiny pamphlet.

I admit, it was a slow-start for the both of us. Lego instructions are written in tiny letters, and the lego pieces are small, slippery and easily lost. Or ehm, eaten by small dogs.

And there were more than one mistakes being made. I blame 90's toy engineering. And I didn't just have to connect all the pieces together, oh no – I also had to PROGRAM THE THING? It didn't say that on the box! True, the instructions were trying to make it seem easy, but no matter how many times I connected the tiny black wires to the "brain" box, the tiny lego robot remained motionless and dead.

Finally, I let out a bloodcurdling scream – scaring Flipper who fled from the bed like a banshee was after him.

"Ugh, this is impossible!" I screamed, then put my hands to my face and did that breathing technique to calm down but backwards. It works better that way, trust me. After doing that, and opening my eyes again, something just...clicked.

I looked down at the (much abused by my violent hands) robot, and the instructions – and then the box where it came from. I must have missed something vital. A thought ocurred to me, and I checked the brain box, a black little USB lookalike. I looked at it from every direction until I finally found it – a slot.

* * *

"Sarah I'm back! Sarah…?"

 _Shit, he was back._

There was no time to silence the abomination I'd made, so I quickly put the cardboard box over it and ran to meet Elliot by the door. I skidded a little on the floor, because it was suprisingly clean. I clasped my hands together and smiled like nothing was out of the ordinary.

"Elliot! Welcome back! Was it ah, a nice day?" I asked politely as he removed his shoes. But I must have seemed a little TOO happy to see him.

"...Is something wrong?" he asked, just as I glanced over at the bed with the cardboard box. I quickly looked back at him, blinking my eyes innocently.

"What? Oh no, nothing. "

Elliot squinted at me. He did a good squint (though not as good as mine).

"You sound weird."

"Haha no I don't." I said, laughing. Then I could not prevent the noise that came from underneath the cardboard box. A metallic, garbled singing.

 _It's a small world after all, its a small small small world! Its a world of laughter, a world of fears-_

I rolled my eyes and sighed heavily before hissing at the offending object I had named about an hour ago after the guy that gave me lice in 6th grade.

"Shut up Gavin!"

To my horror, Elliot eyed the box on the bed like a curious cat. He made to move closer, but I stepped in his way.

"Gavin?" He asked.

"Ehm, hehe. See, something funny happened while you were gone. Really funny in fact..."

 _-a world that we share and we're aware its a small, small wooooooooorld!_

I groaned out loud, hiding my face in my hands.

"...I managed to create a monster."

* * *

I went over to the bed and revealed what was under the box.

The robot itself didn't look too bad – almost like the picture on the box. I had even managed to understand why I couldn't get it to work earlier – it needed a circuit board. But I couldn't find one in the box, so I looked around on Elliots desk for one, thinking maybe he had a spare.

Yes, I know it was a stupid idea. I thought it didn't matter what circuit board you used, heck, I hadn't even heard the term CIRCUIT BOARD until this very day. I just knew what it looked like from pictures I found on google.

As luck would have it, I did find one – not on his desk, but stuck behind the radiator. It was a little dusty so I decided to _wash it off under the sink_.

Yes, bad idea number deux.

And then when I was about to stick it in the brain slot, I realized that it was slightly too big. So I took _a pair of scissors_ and…

Yeah, bad idea number three.

So then it finally fit perfectly. Then when I switched the robot on, it even worked as it should. For a couple of seconds, at least. Then it started to make a low, buzzing sound – the sound of something going very wrong. Then there was a more positive click noise, followed by the robots eyes lighting up red.

" _Hello Friend."_ It said in a garbled voice. I stared at it with my mouth open.

"Wow, oh my god it works. It actually works."

" _Hello Friend."_

On the box it said that you could teach it your name, have basic conversations with it and stuff. So filled with optimism, I tried doing just that.

"Hi there, my name is Sarah. S-A-R-A-H. Can you repeat that?" I said very slowly. The robot made a buzzing noise before responding.

"Sarah. S-A-R-S."

"No. That is wrong."

"Wrong? Sarah..."

"Yes, thats right."

"Sarah, Sarah, Sarah, Sarah, Sarah..."

"Okay, stop!"

"You want to sing the song Stop by Spice Girls? Ok."

"No, no, no , no ,no!"

* * *

Elliot watched calmy as the robot continued singing disney tunes on the bed to itself. After a moment he turned to me.

"What did you put in it?"

"A circuit board I found...behind the radiator. I might have uh, cut it down a little." I said, expecting him to get angry with me. But instead he seemed thoughtful. He turned back to the robot.

"Jaws." he said in a clear voice. To my suprise, the robot sharply turned its head in his direction, almost as if it recognized him. Then it started to play a poorly made midi-version of the theme song from the movie. Then it abruptly cut off, before the robot started talking again.

"Would you like to play a game? Do you want me to dictate a message? Suck ass..."

Elliot made an embarrassed sound in his throat.

"I think you found something I made when I was a kid." he said, and stared at him with wide eyes.

"Oh my god, I put scissors to it..."

He put a hand up, calming me down.

"Nah, don't worry about it. I used to mess around with circuit boards all the time. I don't remember the disney music though..."

Gavin was quick to latch onto that word.

"Disney. Would you like to listen to the best of Disney hits?" he asked, and I shook my head.

"Not right now Gavin. Maybe later ok?"

"Schedule time : Later. "


	15. Chapter 15

My second day of bedrest was much like the first one.

Except on this day, Elliot had to leave me at home to go to work. We had breakfast together, which was both awkward and surprisingly normal.

"I'll be checking in. Keep your phone on." he says as he's putting on his shoes.

I was feeling many things about this whole arrangement. One, annoyance. Two, perplexity – for someone who didn't like touching much or looking me in the eye for too long, Elliot was surprisingly accommodating. I shrug and casually cross my arms over my chest. I'm wearing a plaid shirt I raided out of Elliots closet and a pair of my own jeans today, sitting on the couch with Flipper in my lap.

"And you're sure I can stay here for another two days? I mean I can just grab a cab and be out of you hair..."

Elliot pointedly closes the door and points an index finger at me.

"Stay."

I crinkle my nose at his blatant order.

"I'm not a dog!"

"You sure about that?"

"Well if I'm a dog, what does that make you?"

Elliot stops in the doorway and gives me an odd look, mouth twitching. Wait a minute….

To my horror I start blushing and Elliot is smirking that evil smirk, which makes me blush even more. This is a horrible start of a horrible day!

"Don't answer that!" I screech, throwing a pillow at his head, which he expertly grabs and throws right back in my face because he has the reflexes of a bloody racoon.

"I'll see you in a couple of hours, brat." he says smoothly, before closing the door behind him.

* * *

When he's left I sniff myself and decide that I need a shower.

While I'm in the shower, I think about the stuff that's happened over the last couple of weeks. See, I am a pretty spontaneous person, and I rarely stop to really think about the important stuff. Like how Elliot behaved back when I first met him, compared to now.

He looked so ashen then, so pale and haunted. But in the short time I've known him, he seems to smile a lot more. Dares to make jokes, even.

Contrary to popular belief, I am not a complete idiot and have a vague idea of why he sometimes smells sickly sweet, and why his pupils sometimes look drugged (because he is). But why and how I don't know. I didn't use to care about him like that.

But now, I find that I no longer look at him as some strange creature from outer space (well, about that…) but also as a person who happens to be my friend.

A friend who makes me feel more than friendly sometimes.

A friend with whom I've had moments with that can only be described as electric.

But even if I do feel...more, I doubt that Elliot feels the same way. Something tells me that he rarely lets anyone get close.

I sigh sadly, turning off the shower and grab a towel to dry off.


	16. Chapter 16

So okay, to keep myself occupied and not bored on this bed rest thing I have come up with a foolproof plan:

BEHOLD!

Mission Attraction 2000!

It is now day three, and I will do everything in my power to find out if Elliot likes me. If he were a more conventional man, this would be easy to figure out. All it would take would be a case of heineken beer and a red bikini and I would barely have time to spell E-J-A-C-U-L-A-T-I-O-N.

But Elliot is enigmatic, mysterious, perplexing. All three words I have very little experience with.

So while the man in question is at work, I borrow his laptop (so sue me, he said I could) to make a list of things I could try.

I make a note of doing yoga, since I did that yesterday night after sitting in bed so much, and my eyes werent lying when I saw how he'd paused his video game to watch me huff and pant on the floor in various positions.

Or how he'd tucked me in last night, despite me saying that he didn't have to.

I've noticed that he doesnt really react much to music, except for when I sang along to the disney tape that Gavin played – but he seemed more amused by that than anything else.

Other than that I am at a loss for ideas at the moment, so I will have to improvise – my specialty.

* * *

Elliot comes home exactly five hours later, a bag of takeout food in his hand and hood up as he enters.

"Sarah? I got us some takeout food from an italian place around the corner, their stuff is pretty good.." he holds up the bag and I clap my hands with excitement.

"Yummy!"

Since Elliot doesnt exactly have a dinner table, we sit and eat on the floor in front of the tv so the couch wont get messy. Just after he's taken a really big bite of his mushroom tagliatelle I decide to be spontanious. I take a big breath and start speaking quickly, so I won't loose my nerve.

"Elliot I think maybe that you like me as more than a friend and at first I didnt think I liked you that way but it turns out I really, really do and now Im not sure if you feel the same at all so I have to make sure and ask you?"

I have never seen a grown man look so terrified and frozen in place while having his mouth full. The look recedes a little though after a second as he swallows. But he remains quiet, just staring down at his pasta and I start to regret saying anything at all. I bite my lip and draw up my legs to my chin and try to think of what to say.

"I mean, I totally understand if you don't – I do not mean to pressure you or make you feel uncomfortable, even though I am aware that this is an uncomfortable question. And its okay if you dont want to touch me or anything like that, because I want you to be happy and okay. "

I expect that he'll look up at that, but he doesnt. He just continues to stare at his pasta and I realize that I've made a mistake.

"Hey, its okay – forget I said anything."

So, the plan sort of worked (and really didn't). But I am okay with that – really!

I still meant what I said, and the main point is that Elliot is happy, something I suspect he doesnt feel that often.

* * *

That is why I'm more than surprised when, an hour or so after I've settled in to sleep in bed (Elliot on the couch) I feel a weight settle on the other side – a heavier weight than a small dog.

I open my eyes and find that Elliot is sleeping in the bed now, right next to me. Wait a second, has he been doing this the whole time I've been here? Is that why he never makes a bed in the couch, knowing he'll end up sleeping here? At first I am mildly upset by this, but the more I look at him, the more this starts to make sense.

Now, if I were a normal romantic interest, I would smile stupidly at the sight and fall back asleep. But I've always been more of a direct gal.

So I poke his nose several times to wake him up.

"Hey Elliot, El Dorado, Ellie, Elmo..."

Without so much as opening an eye, he grabs my hand and I almost scream bloody murder.

"Stop that." he grunts, and I scoff at him.

"Hey El, how come you're sleeping like an inch away from me, but earlier when I asked you if you liked me, you said nothing at all and pretended that I did not exist?" I ask, and he groans.

"Go to sleep."

I slap my pillow and sit up in bed, glaring down at him in the dark.

"No I certainly will not! Not until you explain yourself properly young man!"

Suddenly Elliot sits up in bed too, and he looks furious.

"I LIKE YOU ALRIGHT? I LIKE YOU!" he yells.

For once, I am stunned into silence. But only for a couple of seconds. I tilt my head and try to understand.

"So...why didn't you say anything?"

Elliot looks away, shaking his head.

"There are so many reasons why we shouldn't be together." he mutters.

I think about that for a moment. Then I carefully card my fingers through his black hair. He doesnt react badly, nor does he flinch away – but he refuses to meet my gaze.

"But I think there are many more reasons, good reasons, for us to be. " I say gently, and he huffs out what sounds like a weak laugh.

"You're insane."

I quirk an eyebrow at that and look down at the bedspread with a faux innocence.

"The pot calling the kettle black is a popular saying I hear..."

Elliot turns around to look at me then. His expression is unreadable, tense.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Well, that time when you forgot who I was and was about to beat me dead with a baseball bat kind of clued me in."

"And you still..."

I grin, nodding my head vehemently.

"Oh yeah, most definitely."


	17. Chapter 17

When I woke up next morning, my head was completely healed (except for invisible childhood scars from traumatic experiences finding my parents doing kinky shit).

I also woke up very early, and when I turned to my side Elliot was still in the bed, deeply asleep. He had slept on top of the covers like a true gentleman (awww) dressed in a simple black t-shirt and boxers. His eyelids were dark, like he didn't get much sleep, so I made sure not to wake him.

Oohhh naked thighs, calves and legs and feet!

But I decided against fondling them, since A. That would be rude while he was still asleep and B. I didn't want to freak him out.

Quietly I got up, got a banana from the fruit bowl in the kitchen and went into the bathroom to take a shower. After that I got dressed in some of my own clothes, but I did put on one of Elliots black hoodies because they were mad comfortable. I also confiscated Gavin, because he was now my adoptive child.

When I went to pick him up from the floor, his eyes lit up and he started talking.

"DO YOU NEED ASSISTANCE? TELL ME WHAT YOU NEED."

After shushing the robot successfully and putting him in my handbag, I made a final sweep across the bedroom, making sure that I didn't forget anything. But hold on…

Since Elliot and I were officially dating, kind of, I _should_ leave something behind. I mean, he could have an episode and forget who I was again without some kind of reminder.

It was then an idea occurred to me. A very nice, slightly deranged idea.

Biting my lip to stop myself from laughing, I hastily took of my spiderman panties and went over to the kitchen counter to write a note.

 _Hey El,_

 _Thanks for supervising me these last three days, I would probably have a concussion and died without you. You're a little scary sometimes, but guess what? I find that kinda hot – who knew!?_

 _Seriously owe you big time, will take some time to repay you – I hope this gift will sate your needs for now. ;)_

Then I tip-toed back to the bed, sticking the note on his forehead. Then I went over to his computer desk and laid out my panties, like a gift from the gods.

* * *

I went back to work later that day, where everything was just as fast-paced and chaotic as per usual. And I was in a really super-awesome mood, something that my boss was quick to pick up on.

"GODDAMN IT SCOUT, IF YOU KEEP SHINING OUT OF YOUR ASS LIKE THAT PEOPLE WILL GO BLIND!" he shouted from his office, which I promptly ignored except for blowing him a kiss.

It was great to be working again, taking on the streets of new york with Josie as my vehicle of choice. While I was no mountain biking pro, I still could pull of a few moves – like sailing down flights of stairs on the railing, and jumping with the bike a couple of times without falling on my ass. Once I fell into a good flow, I couldn't help but be kind of proud over myself. I finally came to a stop at my destination, pulling on the brakes roughly. I raised my arms in the air and cackled like a madman.

"Haha, I am invincible!" I exclaimed. Nobody reacted except for a nearby flock of piegons who quickly fled the scene. Well this is New york, after all.

* * *

Bugging Elliot at work was quickly becoming my favorite thing to do when I was on my lunch break. Since my hours were a bit more flexible than his, I often found myself with an hour or two to kill in the middle of the day. I would stretch out my legs on two computer chairs and throw wasabi beans at his forehead as I told him about my day.

The rest of the staff at Allsafe were a pretty stiff bunch, and would often glare at me when I came by, which I promptly ignored. When they turned their backs I would try to imitate some of them – much to the embarrassment of our Emo Lord and Savior. There was this blonde pouty loser who would hover around him in particular who I took personal offense to.

 _(yes this might have been jealousy shut up.)_

"Geez, I thought ducklips was neve going to leave." I said in a funny, derpy voice. Elliot rolled his eyes, not taking his eyes of his beloved computer. He was a big workaholic, that one.

"Her name is Portia." he said. I stretched my feet, accidentally kicking off a mug full of pencils on his desk. He barely gave it a glance, but I picked up the mess anyway.

"Like the car?"

"No." he said, and I was immediately disappointed.

"Oh, well that is just sad."

Then abruptly, Elliot stopped working and looked away from the computer screen to face me.

"I have something for you..." he said, making me excited enough to stand up from my chairs.

"Oh a gift? Where is it?" I asked, looking around as if I expected it to appear at any given moment. Instead he just smiled at me mysteriously.

"In twenty-four hours."

"Uh, what?"

"That's when you'll get it. Think you can handle waiting?"

"Puh-leease, of course I can."


	18. Chapter 18

_author's note: LOL you guys know what's up when it comes to Elliot – I know he may seem a little out of character right now, but there is going to be more chapters from his pov in the future that will explain his behavior. And yes, it totally went over my head that poor little flipper is actually a girl, but I'm too lazy to change the gender now. In this universe, Elliot can crack a joke and his dog happens to be a boi. But he is still as mentally unstable as ever, I swear. (sorry elliot)_

* * *

Maybe this is sad but true

Baby, maybe you've got nothing to lose

You could be the best of me

When I'm the worst for you

\- Mr Right, Rocket to the Moon

* * *

I hate secrets.

There I said it, I hate them.

I hate them just as much as Indiana jones hates snakes – which is a lot. But we both pretend that we don't, in order to appear like every normal human being. But I think both you and I (!?) know at this point that normal doesn't really describe me well enough.

So when Elliot said he had a surprise for me that I couldn't find out about until the next day, I knew I was in for a looooooong day….

...Of texting Elliot, trying to wrestle the surprise out of him with verbal abuse. And many (bad) guesses.

 _Me: sooo its not a blow-up doll that looks like bruce willis. Right?_

 _Him: no reply_

 _Me: It must be a pretty big surprise. Does it have anything to do with dinosaurs? Those are big._

 _Him: Almost._

 _Me: What? I'm right? YES_

 _Him: ha ha, kidding._

 _Me: :(_

 _Him: :)_

Eventually I had to give up. I swear, that boy was like fort knox. I could bug him with questions for hours, and all he did was either ignore me or plant red herrings. He was equally quiet about other things. For instance, apart from his love of mario kart and programming, there was little I knew about him. I had no idea who his friends were (if he even had any) or his likes or dislikes. I mean, apart from the whole touching thing –

Come to think of it, our legs were touching when I slept over in his bed. And that didn't seem to bother him. Huh, weird.

The point is, I felt that there was a lot the guy bottled up inside. I just hoped that he wouldn't burst like a can of beer that's been shook for twelve hours.

He kind or reminds me of this dog I saw once at my dad's vet clinic. It had been brought in from a crisis center that took in animals that had been mistreated or abused. Dad was trying to coax it out of the carrier it came in, just wanting to say hello. Eventually he had to lift it out, and it went along with what was happening, but there was this horrible emptiness in its eyes. Like it was resigned to whatever came next, having no energy to fight back.

I saw the same things in Elliot, sometimes. And it scared me.

* * *

The next day came, finally.

I was almost angry that he had refused to tell me what was going to happen, but also too excited to let it stop me from going to see him. I was only working up til lunch, and Elliot was (suspiciously) free for the day.

He texted me, saying that he would be waiting for me by the steps to city hall by noon. Hold on a second, city hall?

 _Me: geez El, if this is your idea of a shotgun wedding you should have at least given me time to find a nice dress_

 _him: no relpy_

I pulled a neon blue hoodie on over my work uniform as I got off my bike and jogged across the street to go meet him. It was not hard to miss him – the only black-clad person sitting on the steps. He was eating a pretzel, and looked mildly startled when I waved at him. I ignored it and walked right up to him.

"I'm ready to see it!" I said by way of greeting. Elliot chewed and swallowed slowly.

"See what?" he asked, blinking innocently. He had such a good poker face.

"The surprise you dummy!"

"Fine, fine. Come on, follow me."

* * *

We walked around the corner and into a narrow and very dirty alleyway. We then stopped in front of what looked like a garage door. You could tell that it was locked digitally because there was a keypad on the wall next to it. Without any hesitation, Elliot stepped close to it and punched in a couple of numbers. It beeped in a positive way, and Elliot reached down to push the garage cover up.

But when he opened it, it was plain to see that this was NOT a garage. There was a long flight of narrow stairs that led down into a dark pit, and there was no way of seeing what was at the bottom.

I stared at Elliot.

He stared back.

I coughed.

"Well, this is not creepy looking at all is it?" I asked, which was more of a statement really because it WAS creepy looking. I stared down into the darkness, feeling a shiver creep up my spine.

"Afraid of the dark?" Elliot casually asked. I rubbed my arms up and down.

"Well..."

He shrugged and looked away.

"We don't have to do it if you dont want to."

I turned to him sharply.

"No! I want to! But can I like, hold your hand on the way down?"

Elliot stared at me for a long moment. I had no idea what went through his head, but he kept staring at my hands like he was simultaniously terrified and curious at the same time.

"Yeah, you can."

I thought Elliot would be a sweaty handholder, and have a really weak grip.

But instead, he held my hand very firmly, and his hand was dry as the sahara desert. I made a quick mental note of borrowing him some of my shea lotion later.

"we're almost there."

"Where is there exactly?"

"You'll see."

"arrghhhhhh."

* * *

The smell was becoming strangely familiar. On the way down all I could smell was garbage, but now there was something more cellar-like about it. We walked down a dark narrow hallway that suddenly stopped by a door, which opened without any lock. Finally, we came into a room with light.

It took me a couple of seconds of blinking and squinting before I could finally open my eyes. At first I thought we had wandered into a church. The walls were all mosaic, beautiful patterns of many different colors. It looked like we were standing in a building from medieval times or something.

Then I noticed the sign on one of the walls – City hall station.

It took me a moment to figure out where we were. When it finally clicked I turned around and gawked at Elliot who was loitering around casually, but pointedly staring at me, waiting for my reaction.

"Holy shit, Elliot! Is this what I think it is?"

"The subway station that has been closed to the public since 1947? "

"Oh my god! This is so cool!"

"We have to keep a look out though, trains still come by here once in awhile."

"How did you know how to get in here anyway?"

"A friend of a friend told me."

We walked up and down the platform, looked at the now ancient billboards and posters still up on the walls. Everything looked relatively clean for being abandoned for so long. In the middle of the platform, if you looked straight up, there was a small patch of the ceiling that was made of glass, to let in light. It felt very strange, standing in a completely empty and quiet subway station. Strange, but very special too.

I was looking up into the light when I heard the unmistakable sounds of a train coming. I wasn't quick enough to find a place to hide, and began to panic when Elliot suddenly grabbed me and pulled me next to him in a darker part of the platform, where no-one could see us. A second later, a train came by, whooshing past us for only a moment until it was gone again.

But before it was gone, I began to laugh, because the air that hit me in the face whipped my hair around in crazy ways. I also laughed because it felt so crazy and ridiculous to be hiding from a train. When I looked at Elliot to see if he was laughing too, I noticed that his eyes were noticeably darker as they looked back at me.

When the train was gone we stepped out of the shadows, deciding that maybe it was time to get the hell out of here before anyone actually saw us. On the way back up the secret stairs, I still felt giddy.

When we got out the way we came, I couldn't help myself any longer. Without warning, I practically launched myself on Elliot, giving him a quick bear hug. When I let go of him, he didn't immediately retreat deeper into his black hoodie like a turtle, which was an improvement.

"Thank you for showing me that El. You're a pretty cool guy, you know that right?"

Elliot looked baffled, but then he smiled an odd little smile, like the concept was totally new to him.

"I'm cool, huh?"

I smacked him on the arm and spun around on the spot.

"I just said so didn't I! But of course, not any cooler than myself."


	19. Chapter 19

A few days later, I called Elliot and asked if he wanted to see the new jurassic park movie. Since we were both working people, we decided to go see it late at night.

But on the way to the cinema, Elliot's phone suddenly rang. I had never seen that happen before – which in retrospect, a little odd. He picked it up quickly, and after a minute of talking he actually stopped in the street, and I realized that something serious was going on.

"What's the matter?" I whispered, but he was still on the phone, talking rapidly now to the person on the other end.

"And you haven't been able to stop it? Yeah, I get it. I'm coming over there right now." he said, ending the call.

"Did something bad happen?" I asked, and he moved a hand through his short hair and sighed.

"Yeah. Someone hacked into our system at work. "

"Why did they call you?"

"Because I am part of the tech security team. The other guys can't fix it."

I understood why he had to go, but I was still bummed that we wouldn't get to watch the movie or hang out that night. I nodded and smiled, but it was not my brightest smile.

"I understand. Go then, I'll go see this dinosaur spectacle and report back to you if its any good."I said, sounding somewhat disappointed even though I tried to look casual. Even though I wear my heart on my sleeve most of the time, and can't lie to save my life.

But Elliot wasn't going. In fact, he looked quite determined about something.

"No."

"No?"

"I mean - You could come, if you want. "

* * *

We grabbed a cab, since from what Elliot was telling me, the situation at work was pretty serious and we needed to get there as quickly as possible (and my bike was not with us).

Since it was late at night, when we arrived at Allsafe, the building looked mostly dark and empty. But there were two security guards by the front desk who waved at Elliot and made me stop to scan my body for any metal before we could take the elevator up to the tech department.

When we arrived, there were five people in a large office, staring at a large screen with ticking numbers – everyone looked panicked and freaked out. I recognized Angela, who was pacing and talking on the phone in an angry voice. An older guy with glasses sighed with relief when he saw Elliot and made his way over to us.

"You better know how what do to about this mess."

"Calm down, it's only been an hour."

"Well the company has lost about 13 million dollars in revenue so far!" the older man yelled, which didn't seem to bother Elliot at all. Angela put her phone down when she saw me and frowned.

"Wait, who is this?" she asked, sneering.

I did a good job of sneering back – what a bitch.

Meanwhile, Elliot was talking to a sweaty, nervous guy sitting by a computer, but paused to answer her question.

"That's Sarah. She's my girlfriend." he said, shrugging.

Just like that, like it was no big thing at all.

It seemed like everyone in the room regardless of the situation stopped what they were doing to gape openly at the both of us. Wait, that includes me too. I looked over at Angela, who looked like she had just ingested a lemon without the peel. And despite feeling very much surprised by this admission myself, I couldn't help but snigger at her.

The severity of the situation was quickly brought back after that, and everyone's attention was back on that big screen. And yes, just as the man with the glasses had said, it looked like (even to my inexperienced eye) like someone with a computer was stealing funds from the company – and fast.

"I thought we set up security protocols so that this _doesn't_ happen! Where is the attack coming from?" he glasses man asked, and Elliot, while still calm about the situation, had that more of that Gollum look about him that told me that he was _in the zone_.

I quietly sat down at one of the empty desks and started fiddling with the office equipment.

"From everywhere, obviously. "

"Well, do the usual then – restart the servers, re-direct traffic and call prolexic for help…"

"I don't think this is just a DDOS attack. I think he's got a root kit sitting inside the servers."

The room went silent again after Elliot said that. Even though I had no idea what a DDOS or a root kit was, I could tell from their faces that this was really, really bad.

"How do we stop it?" the glass man asked, sounding very stressed and tired. The sweaty boi readjusted his glasses and answered him.

"We can't, since its practically invisible. Even if we reboot the servers the virus is just going to replicate itself."

There was another tense silence over the room. I started making an origami bird out of some printing paper lying around. Elliot got up from his computer chair and faced what I assumed was the boss of this operation.

"The only thing we can do is to take the whole system offline. Wipe the infected servers clean and bring them back up."

The boss looked queasy for a second and made a range of strange hand gestures. Finally he nodded and got his phone out.

"Okay, Lloyd – tell everyone to start taking everything offline. The server farm in Dallas, yeah we're gonna need the jet." he said into the phone and then pointed at Elliot.

"You're coming with me." he said gravely. He then started walking out of the room. I looked to Elliot, who was looking at me expectantly. I realized that he wanted me to come along to this as well, which was unexpected.

Just like him calling me his girlfriend not five minutes ago but you know, whatever. As we made our way to the elevator the boss held me back, his hand raised. He looked between me and Elliot with a look of irritation.

"Hold up, she has no part in this."

Despite being much shorter in height than his boss, Elliot made a good impression just then of being the opposite. He tilted his head to the side and gave him a look that I hadn't seen from him before. It was not a sadness, nor just simple anger – it was something deep and awful and just dark.

"Want my help or not?" he asked, a simple question but his eyes told a different story.

"Well, yeah."

Then without further ado, the boss stepped aside and let me in the elevator. Needless to say, the time it took to ride down to ground level was spent in awkward silence.

* * *

I had never been in a jet before, let alone a plane.

This may sound strange, but I'd actually never traveled much in my life so far. Every other long distance trip I'd taken had been either by train or car, and I'd never been to europe.

So I was pretty excited to get to fly in one now. I was alone in this joy, since Elliot and his boss were still talking about the problem ahead. We were going to denver with the jet, which took off from this hidden platform next to a parking lot in the middle of new york. It was like something out of a James Bond movie!

My face was plastered against one of the small windows on the side of the plane so I could look at the clouds outside while Elliot was seated next to me, eating from a small bag of peanuts and listening to his boss who was on a chair opposite from us. Well, it was hard to tell if he was listening or not, since his eyes were halfway closed and I got the distinct feeling that he wasn't all that fond of him. I wondered when he would be throwing the bag of peanuts in his face.

So to make things a little better for him, I leaned down to whisper in his ear.

"Hey El, I know this is a work thing and its superimportant – but this jet is really fucking cool. I have never been on a plane. And you got me on it, so thanks." I whispered, winking at him. The dark look on his face was slowly replaced by a small, but very real smile.

* * *

The showdown in Denver was pretty intense.

All the servers except one had been taken down, and Elliot had to fix the last one manually with the help of his own computer. He began talking to himself at this point, and it was hard not to get caught up in the intensity. We were sitting on the floor of the carpeted server room and at some point, he started narrating what he was doing.

"I need to re-direct the traffic, the back-server has to stay clean. In order to do that I first have to trace the ITA to the selected server. Then I have to keep the virus at bay so that it has time to switch everything off. " Elliot explained matter of fact, his voice calm and collected but I could tell by the boss standing over us that it was a do or die situation now. Winner take all, loser takes nothing.

"This is impossible!" a random tech guy shouted from the back. I threw an empty can of soda at his head.

"Not it's not, shut your dumb trap!" I shouted, and the guy quieted down but not before I caught Elliot smirking at me.

Finally, a breath of relief was drawn as the boss sagged against one of the walls. He had been watching another screen, where you could see where the virus had taken over. And now, it was cleared from the system completely.

"Its okay, we're good now." he said, and Elliot finally looked up from his laptop, wide eyes blinking.

"Yeah, it's done."

The boss leaned down and put his hand out and I could tell what was about to happen. A catch-22, if you will. Like the skilled ninja that I am, I got up from my cross-legged position on the floor to calculatingly stretch my limbs, effectively blocking his advances.

The boss stuttered and blinked awkwardly but nevertheless retreated a few steps back. Yes, success! I made a show of yawning and cracking my knuckles like I was the one who had worked tirelessly for the last 6 hours or so.

"Wow, I sure am tired. What time is it anyway?" I asked, and Elliot shrugged.

"Oh, around 2 am. "

Well fuck me – I was definitely calling in sick tomorrow. I slapped my forehead loudly.

"Jiminy cricket! If I fall asleep on the plane, don't wake me."

I actually meant that as a joke, but jokes on me because I did end up falling asleep on the plane on our way home. And I did not wake up in my own bed either.

* * *

When I did wake up, I was really confused. I was dressed in last nights clothing, but not wearing any shoes. When I sat up I realized that I had slept in Elliots bed again – and he was there too!

I blinked and looked at him – he was still asleep. I checked the bedside clock which told me that it was sometime around noon. I carefully nudged Elliots shoulder.

"Hey, I guess you don't have work today huh?"

He didn't even pretend to be awake at first, but then he started frowning with his eyes closed.

"No. I got today off for doing a good job." he grumbled. His usually pretty neat spiked hair was curling, he must have had a shower when he got back last night.

"How did I get here last night? I only remember falling asleep on the jet." I asked. Elliot quirked an eyebrow, eyes still closed.

"I called an uber at the airport when we landed, carried you here. "

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Because you told me not to."

For some reason, those words kept on echoing inside my head. It resonated more than anything else he could have said.

So, going on a hunch, I leaned down and kissed him.


	20. Chapter 20

_author's note: Yes I've been gone for a while and am quite aware of how you're all salivating for more chapters. Since Rami Malek has once again entered my brain and decided to shower me with inspiration, more chapters to follow soon._

* * *

 _And I cover up these scars_

 _(We'll make it we'll make it but we break it)_

 _And I can't stop seeing stars_

 _(lets hope not die)_

 _Whenever you're around_

 _around_

 _-_ Self-inflicted, Katy Perry

* * *

I pressed my lips to his and it seemed as if time stood still.

The room was quiet, yet it felt charged – loud in a different way. I didn't expect Elliot to respond. But before I decided to move away, there was a gentle pressure at the back of my head – his warm hand was suddenly there, holding me in place. I opened my eyes and looked down at him, only to find that he was looking back. The kiss, well the peck really, ended but he was looking at me in a way that felt raw and intimate. _Hungry._

I knew that look – though I had never seen it on Elliots face, and never had I seen it so intensely from anyone else. I didn't expect to ever see it from him. He looked almost angry, such sudden heat in his eyes that made me think of wildfires, how quickly they spread and ignite entire cities, continents.

I exhaled, and it was the only sound in the room – and it acted as a trigger.

Suddenly he surged up to meet my lips again, and this time there was nothing cautious about it. Our lips crashed together, his hand on the back of my head fisted in my long hair, making me gasp into his mouth. He made a high keening sound in response, his other hand on my hip dragging me closer to him, pushing me down on the bed next to him. Our legs tangled together, in an almost effortless way. He refused to let go of my hair, his hand tightly fisted in it like an anchor as he continued to kiss me like a madman. Almost out of spite I dug my nails into his shoulders, touching him as much as possible – daring him to push me away, to tell me that it was too much.

But apparently, it wasn't nearly enough.

"Can I take your clothes off?" he asked politely, his voice low and husky. But his eyes glowed, screaming at me to say yes. But I had to make sure that he was okay.

"Are you sure?" I asked, sounding breathless. He didn't respond at first, lowering his face to calmly look at my neck, his fingers drawing unintelligible patterns on my skin there.

"I like that you do that. Take care of me. " he said calmly, which was almost infuriating.

I couldn't respond since one of his hands had decided to migrate further south, down towards my breasts. At first it just ghosted there, barely touching. Then my breath stuttered, and his hand disappeared under the fabric of my tank top. I couldn't help but finally say something, my lips quirking into a smile.

"You know me, I'm the caring type." I said, expecting him to smile or laugh in return. He did neither. Instead he moved both hands to tug my tank top completely off. He threw it somewhere over his shoulder, his eyes transfixed at my chest.

"I can be too."

Elliot, instead of simply massaging my breasts, leaned his face down to lick, nip, and bite at them. Mostly bite, which was exactly the thing that made me go insane. How the hell did he know that?

But I found it was hard to think about that, to think about anything else other than the feeling of his mouth on me. And by the sounds of things, he enjoyed himself too. He closed his eyes and sighed, moaned in tandem with me. I couldn't take it anymore.

"Elliot...please."

He leaned his head against my stomach for a moment, nuzzling, simply breathing. I helped him take off his grey t-shirt, which was as quickly discarded as his boxers. I kicked off my spiderman panties and then there we both were – totally and completely naked. _Wow he was nicely equipped!_ There was a moment where we both paused, both panting and aroused beyond belief.

Then I had to ask.

"Please don't tell me you're a virgin. I don't want be the one to defile your honor."

Elliot smirked – but it was gone as soon as it came, that intense look about him still present as ever.

"See? Always caring about me."

I cocked my head to the side and stared at him seriously. I brought my hand up to his cheek, traced a birthmark near his temple.

The kiss that followed was even more intense (if that is possible) than the earlier ones. And it was hard to pinpoint, but suddenly he was inside me. Like some fucking magician from the wizard of oz. I usually didn't like being on the bottom, but with Elliot it didn't seem to matter where I was, his searing gaze followed me everywhere and it was nearly enough to make me come.

Again it was the sounds I made that made him come alive. Whenever I moaned as he snapped his hips into mine, he would find new ways to touch me. New places to bite into my skin. Impulsively, midway, I reached up and hugged him to me.

Hugging was different, I could feel it. His muscles seized up, and he stopped moving into me for a moment.

But when I opened my mouth to apologize, he was the one that spoke. His voice sounded watery and strange, almost scared.

"Why do you – Why do you always do that? Why do you always want to be close to _me?_ " it sounded like he had been holding the words in for some time. I leaned back but didn't let go of him.

"Because I want to. "

"Why?" he asked, his eyes wide and imploring. For some strange and undefinable reason, I wanted to cry. Instead I bopped his nose.

"Because I care about you, silly. Speaking of which, I want to suck you off if that's alright with you."

Needless to say, it was alright – more than, even.


	21. Chapter 21

Author's Note: Yes I'm sorry okay?!Its been a long winter, I was depressed and Lucifer may be on Netflix now but I'm still very disappointed in the show's progress overall and it's an upsetting time for all of us. Btw, I was cackling like the pervert I am while writing this.

* * *

Next morning, I found myself waking up ridiculously early.

It was always like this after I'd had good sex. I felt all kinds of squirmy and special downstairs and I had to reflect on the night before in peace before the other person woke up.

But this was the first time in a long time that I did not gtfo immediately afterwards. Yes, you heard me right. Sarah King likes to have sex often and more often than not with strangers. I'm attractive as hell and I love attractive men. It's an easy equation.

What isn't so easy however, is well…. _this._

I settled myself with a cup of coffee on the floor next to the bed. I had never watched a guy sleep before, but Elliot, like in many other areas, was different.

He looked so expressive – even in sleep. Like the deep shadows under his eyes, that never seemed to go away.

I'd had boyfriends before, but those relationships (if you could call them that) never lasted long. I'd been called loud, dramatic, and plain crazy by those guys. And me? I didn't really care, I just broke up with them. End of story.

I tried imagining shrugging off Elliot like that, and it made me feel strangely queasy.

Before I knew it, I realized that I had been watching him sleep for almost an hour. I almost laughed at myself.

"Geez, what's wrong with me?" I muttered, and padded out into the kitchen and fed Flipper – who had, bless him, been patiently waiting since I first got up. And since I wasn't a complete brute and an animal lover, I also took him out so he could go pee-pee. He was surprisingly well-mannered, since Elliot didn't seem to spend that much time with him in the first place. But then again, what did I know?

Elliot woke up an hour later at 8 am, and I was getting dressed to go to work – thankfully I kept a spare uniform at our offices so I just put on what I wore yesterday and figured that everyone at work was going to lose their shit when they realized why. My boss would go into psycho-parental mode and lecture me about STDs, as per usual.

As I was thinking about this and merrily sniggering to myself as I got dressed, Elliot shuffled into the kitchen. He looked even more like a caricature of himself in the morning. I downed a glass of orange juice, and he followed the motion with his neck – black eyes heated as he watched me drink.

 _Oh lord._

I coughed loudly.

"Good morning there cowboy! Sleep good?" I asked, and why was my voice suddenly so squeaky?! He nodded, but kept advancing on me in a way that I never thought him capable of.

"Yeah. Did you?" He asked, the smug motherfucker. I rolled my eyes and leaned against the fridge behind me. It was on the tip of my tongue to say something really crude, instead I opted for a more tasteful approach as I shrugged.

"I never sleep much after getting plowed really good like that."

Whoops.

But rather than getting embarrassed, like I thought he might, which I had hoped he might – Elliots gaze dropped to the front of my pants – his gaze still dark.

"You're unzipped."

I blinked my baby blues and looked down – he was right. It was kind of an odd thing to point out, then again he is a born-again version of Gollum with a mohawk.

"Oh geez, thanks for noticing," I said and moved my hands to zip it up. But I found myself slowly pushed back against the fridge behind me, Elliot moving my hands away. And then he unzipped the pants completely while I just gaped back at him like a fish.

Did I say that Elliot had never ever done something like this before? I think I did.

 _Extra, extra – Elliot Anderson's hand is slipping inside my pants! Read all about it!_

"Uh El – did you take viagra or something during the night? See I thought you had a problem with-"

But before I could finish the sentence, he slipped two fingers inside me and I let out a moan instead of the word "intimacy". I found myself squeezing the fabric of his t-shirt along his shoulder like a lifeline as he slipped his fingers in and out repeatedly, in a steady rhythm that was slowly but surely driving me insane.

I realized that if he kept this up, I was going to cum right there in his kitchen. A good plan, in other words.

But I wasn't exactly unaware of what was happening to him in the process – hard cock pressing against my hip through his boxers like a ship ready to set sail. Now how to relay my concerns to him?

"Uhh, just shove it into me!" I managed to utter – and I caught the sight of a toothy smile on his face before he obliged.

The problem with having sex in a kitchen is that every surface is slippery as shit. So naturally we fell to the floor in the process. I came just a few minutes after, but Elliot didn't.

Without a word, he scooped me up from the floor – not carrying me like a bride. Instead he gave me a piggyback to his bed and once there, lowered me with purpose – and he kept giving me this look like I was a bank he wanted to rob or something.

"What?!" I asked, and he smiled like a thief, then a second later he looked, for the first time this morning, like his usual self. Paranoid, stressed out and shy. He shrugged out of his shirt and the rest of his clothes.

"Just lay down – on your side."

"Why?"

"There's something I wanna try."

* * *

I did as he asked, but sorta confused as to why. Did he just want to spoon me or something? That's easy enough to ask – just didn't think that it would be something he got off to.

And at first it seemed like that was what was happening – he laid down behind me, getting comfortable – his breath on the back of my neck sent shivers down my spine. His arms settled around my waist, and I sighed, thinking that was it.

Wrong.

Because then, he tugged me more firmly against him – one of his hands coming up to squeeze my breast through my t-shirt. He angled me to almost rest against his chest, his head now resting in the crook of my shoulder and neck. Meanwhile, I was having trouble to breathe again and by the sound and feel of it, so did he. _Fuck, even his sighs were turning me on!?_

"You're really good at this, you know that?" I had to say, my eyes almost closing shut – but Elliot didn't answer me immediately.

"You're dangerous for me. _You_ know that?" he whispered huskily, and shortly after he entered me from behind in one slow thrust, squeezing his arms around me at the same time, like I wanted to escape this and he was trying to stop me.

It was almost painful how good it felt.

But Elliot wasn't done talking.

"I don't get distracted easily. You've seen what I do. It's crazy how similar a computer works to a real brain-"

As he talked, he kept up a steady but slow rhythm, and when I tried to edge away, his arms kept me in place. I moaned suddenly in a loud almost scream, and he pressed his mouth to my bare neck, exhaling a sigh.

"FTP servers, the flaws – there are always flaws in the system, and I find them all. I find a way to understand how they work."

I have no idea what he's talking about, but the tone he's using is for my benefit. I can't believe I'm getting turned on by nerd talk.

"Elliot, I'm going to – I'm going to-" I moan, squeezing one of his hands wrapped around me and I feel him shiver in response. He still hasn't stopped talking – his voice low and rough.

" You're not like them Sarah, you're not the flaw. You leave no trace, clean."

And just like that, he thrusts inside me two more times and I come apart in his arms.


	22. Chapter 22

So yeah, needless to say I did not get to work that day at all.

When I finally appeared to work the following day, hair tousled and wearing clothes from two days ago, my boss almost bust a vein and the twins high-fived each other. But I hardly noticed or cared for their reactions. I'd had some pretty darn good sex that I would be thinking about (and probably masturbate to) for weeks to come.

"SCOUT! GET IN HERE!" My boss yelled, and I twirled on the spot before I shuffled into his office with a big, dumb grin on my face as I settled into one of his guest chairs.

"WIPE THAT SMILE OFF YOUR FACE AND GET TO WORK, JESUS CHRIST – DO YOU WANT THIS COMPANY TO FALL APART?"

"ehh, no sir?"

He shook his head disapprovingly.

"Never answer a question with another question. Now disinfect yourself and get into your uniform before I decide to send you over to planned parenthood across the street myself!"

"Relax boss, I'm being safe – condoms were used."

My boss turned purple for a second and stared at me in mute disgust. Then he stood up and went over to the whiteboard in his office, and even though I knew exactly what he was about to do, I sighed and let him have his speech. He began making a list on the board, and then pointed to each item like a military sergeant.

"Remember what we look for! GONORRHEA! KLAMYDIA! LICE!"

"I'll be sure to keep an eye out for it sir."

"REMAIN VIGILANT! I'm counting on you Scout to keep everyone in check around here."

I stood up and gave him a salute.

"You can count on me sir."

Boss got teary-eyed for a second and turned away. Patriotism always touched him.

"That'll be all for now. Head out!"

* * *

I zoomed across the city on my bike, happy to be back to work. I'd missed the exercise, and the thrill of breaking my own speed records. When it was time for lunch I decided to text Elliot to let him know that I'd had a lovely time.

 _Hey El. I had a pretty good time with you, are you busy this weekend? Xoxo Sarah_

Now I know boys and I know how they text. It can take them a good while sometimes to come up with a response. So I wasn't expecting it any time soon.

But after three days without one, I was starting to wonder what the hell was up. So I decided to send another text.

 _Uh El, you do know that responding is a thing that can be done?_

Another day went by, again no response. But it did say "read" - so he'd seen my messages but decided to ghost me?!

"The fuck..."I muttered out loud to myself, standing in my apartment with a glass of wine. I tapped my foot against the floor as red hot anger flooded in me. Because one does not simply ghost Sarah King like that. No sir!

When I tried to call, all I got was a busy signal. Meaning that he'd probably blocked my number. And this of course, made me even angrier. And yeah I'll admit, kind of hurt. And it made me wonder if the whole "shy and different" behavior was all just a ploy to get me to have sex with him so he could then just blow me off.

I finished my wine, but on a yellow hoodie and my sneakers before heading out.

* * *

I arrived at Elliot's apartment complex 20 minutes later, and let me tell you – steam was coming out of my ears. I was not some girl who sat around wondering – I was a girl who looked for answers. I remembered which floor he lived on, and simply stomped up the stairs and knocked on his door.

I took about a minute before he opened the door – and then he only opened it a crack, peeking out at me with a cautious, almost afraid look on his face.

"Yes?" he asked me, like I was just some random stranger. I looked at him searchingly, trying to understand.

"Elliot, what the fuck?" I asked, but he just blinked at me. His eyes had a wet sheen to them, his pupils way dilated.

"I'm sorry I don't – I don't understand…." he mumbled, and I scoffed as I put my hands on my hips.

"Look, this is easy. If all you wanted was to get laid then at least be honest about it. And for goodness sake, don't ever ghost a girl – its just impolite."

But Elliot just stared blankly at me. His fingers were twitching. Then he quickly lowered his gaze to the floor, like something very interesting had appeared there.

"I think you've got the wrong person. I'm sorry."

"Wrong person? Elliot it's me – Sarah, remember? The girl you slept with only last week? The girl you saved from getting electrocuted in her own apartment? "

Then he looked at me again – but there was no recognition there, his expression closed-off and detached.

"If you don't get out of here I'm going to call the cops."

This was not how things went. This was not how I imagined it would go. I shook my head at him, and felt an unfamiliar pain in my chest.

"I don't understand. Why are you like this?"

He stared at me for a long moment, swallowing.

"Goodbye."


	23. Chapter 23

After Elliot slammed the door in my face, I probably stood there for a good minute just staring ahead, blinking.

And that little nagging pain in my chest was still there.

But then I scoffed, turned on my heel and left. _Fuck him!_ Who cares if I ever see him and his dumb, ashy complexion ever again. Not me, that's who.

The next day was a friday, and the twins took me out to our regular place for drinks. I had a lot of them – happy hour was my best friend.

It's weird being angry and drunk at the same time. I was still (for some reason) stewing over what happened with Elliot earlier, and alcohol hadn't helped.

"Uhh, Sarah?" Dee asked at one point, looking at me strangely. I looked up at him from my resting position, head leaning against the table.

"Myeah?" I mumbled, my fingers drumming against the table. Dee swallowed nervously – which was pretty funny. He was a large, beefy guy.

"Are you okay? "He asked, eyeing me and the empty glasses surrounding me. I shrugged at his question and giggled.

"What do you mean? I'm totally fine!"

Dee just raised an eyebrow at that.

"And the three pina-coladas?"

"They're tasty! "

"But you hate pineapple." he said, and I rolled my eyes –trying to shove him lightly but missed and just shoved air.

"Pffft! Whatever, you're not my mom."

Dum leaned over and stage-whispered into my ear, eyeing someone behind me.

"Hey, that guy is totally checking you out." he whispered, and I did my best to sit up straight and look around.

"Hmm? Where?"

He was leaning against the crowded bar, a sandy blonde guy with a square jaw, dressed in a navy office suit. He looked polished, clean and wholesome. And I suppose he was…attractive. Had a sort of scandinavian vibe to him. When our eyes met he raised his beer glass and smiled – his white teeth almost blinding me in the process. I smirked back at him, waggling my eyebrows suggestively.

This was it. This was what I needed. Just a normal guy to bang to make me stop obsessing over a little hiccup like Elliot Angry hippo Anderson.

I turned back to the twins and thumped them soundly on their backs, making them splutter into their drinks as I chuckled.

"You know what guys? I think I've found my ride home for the night, I'll catch you on the flipside!"

* * *

"Wellick? What kind of name is that? Is it german?" I asked, laughing loudly at myself. The guy frowned and just stared at me.

"Uh, no."

"Wow, tough crowd. Like my thighs? Wanna touch em?" Wellick laughed nervously, but I could tell when a guy wanted me.

"You're pretty direct."

This guy was pretty boring for conversation, so I decided to skip to the good stuff. We left the bar and got a cab to his place, where I wasted absolutely no time in getting him down and dirty in the bedroom. The last thing I remember happening before falling asleep was him jerking off to himself (he didn't come inside me, claiming that his sperm was very potent – which made me laugh into the pillow for ages) .

I woke up a couple of hours later, but it was not a happy awakening exactly. My head was fuzzy, and felt like it weighed a ton. I groaned as I sat up in the overly large and luxuriant bed. The Wellic guy was still asleep next to me, his mouth open as he snored. I shrugged off his arm that had been draped over me as I left the bed and put on my discarded clothes from last night.

From the looks of things (and from the clock on the dressing table) it was just before dawn. I snuck out the door quietly and left.

Even though I hadn't slept much and felt a hangover on the horizon, I felt strangely clear-headed. As I walked down a quiet street near madison avenue I began thinking again about what had happened earlier. Even though I was still mad, my gut instinct was telling me different.

* * *

An hour later, I showed up at Elliot's doorstep again and knocked. My hair was a mess, my makeup smeared but I didn't give two shits. I knocked several times before he opened the door – at first he looked angry, dark eyes flashing and hair tousled, but when he saw that it was me, he looked startled.

I grinned widely at him like a deranged psychopath.

"Hi there. Do you have a moment to talk about jesus christ, our lord and savior?"

This time I could tell he was falling short. I had surprised him.

"I'll call the cops." he said quietly. I simply shrugged and moved past him, crossing the threshold.

"Yeah well, I thought about that. Maybe it would be good if you did, I've always wanted to know if prison is really like that netflix show or not. With all the gay sex – it sounds pretty cool." I said, sitting down on his couch in the living room comfortably as I looked back at him. He was still standing by the front door, looking at a loss.

A tense silence reigned between us until I spoke up again.

"Look Elliot, everyone is a little fucked up. At least give me the decency and be honest about it. Don't play me for a fool." I said, and I meant it.

He said nothing to that, just looked sort of lost and terrified. I sighed.

"So what is it? Depression? Hallucinations? And I know its really not my place, but drugs is not a good way to help with that. My dad is a vet, and I've seen animals on mescaline. It's not pretty."

Elliot visibly swallows before he speaks. His eyes look raw, like he's just recently been crying. I grip the pillow next to me as I see him struggle to get the words out.

"I...I have medication."

"And you're taking it?" I ask, and he shrugs, but it is far from a casual gesture.

"Sometimes, I think."

 _Sometimes? Jesus christ._

It's on the tip of my tongue to ask why, but I don't. Instead I just realize just how alone this guy is. Nobody who checks up on him, seeing how he is. And that makes me angry – so angry that it shocks me a little.

I sigh and get up from the couch, dusting off my slutty dress as I walk over to Elliot who is busy staring at the floor like the weirdo he is.

"I'm going to hug you now." I proclaim, before doing just that. He doesn't resist, but tenses at my touch initially – but when I nestle my head into the crook of his neck, I feel him exhale and relax – his arms hugging me back somewhat reluctantly.

When I lean back I give his nose a big, comical, loud kiss.

He blinks his large gollum eyes a few times and I smile.

"Now tell me, what meds have you been prescribed? I'm not a doctor, but my mom is a therapist of ehhh sorts. Maybe there's something for you that doesn't make one zonked out or numb."


End file.
